Daughter of Earth and Sky
by KittenofShadows
Summary: Rune, daughter of an elf and a rider, has always remained hidden in her castle, untouched by sorrows. But after fleeing to the Varden, she realizes that maybe the world isn't so perfect. Takes place after Eldest.
1. Am I a Princess?

Rune ran her fingers over Thorn's blood colored scales. She scratched his underbelly, feeling the dragon fire in his chest. He purred at her.

"Take me flying, Thorn," she whispered to the dragon, leaning against him. She rubbed the soft scales under his wings.

_No, little Dove,_ he responded. _I fly with Murtagh on my back._

She nodded sadly. Rune had heard this before.

"He's right," said a voice from behind her. Rune spun, coming face to face with Murtagh himself. "I'm the dragon rider, not you."

Rune laughed at his expression. "I know, I know. But it would truly be wonderful, don't you think? We could fly together on our dragons, Slate and Thorn."

He smiled. "So you've already named your dragon? Dove, that's silly."

"I can pretend, can't I?" the young girl asked. She plopped down in the straw. Murtagh sat down next to her. She lay back, getting straw in her dark auburn hair. "Murtagh, why won't my father let me touch his dragon egg? I'm sure it would choose me."

"He loves you," Murtagh said. "He doesn't want the life of a Rider for you."

She frowned and shook her head. "He doesn't love me at all. He hates me."

"You remind him of your mother."

"Well, that's really not my fault," she pouted. Almost instantly her face brightened again. "Murtagh, tell me about your fight with Eragon again," she giggled like a little girl, "That one made father _so_ desperately mad."

Murtagh watched her face closely. "Now why do you want to know about Eragon?"

She rolled over, a mask of thoughtfulness over her pretty features. "I've heard he's dreadfully handsome."

Murtagh frowned. "You aren't allowed out of the palace, my dove. Where would you have heard that?"

She bit her lip. "My chambermaid. She stole his poster from the board in town and gave it to me. _Please _don't tell Galbatorix, Murtagh. You'll get her in _dreadful_ trouble."

"Don't worry," he assured her. "Maids are known gossipers."

She cocked her head like a dog. "If maids are gossipers, then why doesn't the whole kingdom know about me?"

Murtagh closed his eyes. _Because if word gets out that Galbatorix had a child with an elf captive, every maid, page, and soldier in this castle will be killed._ But he couldn't say that. He smiled brightly at her. She was so innocent. Her wide, green eyes glittered with curiosity about everything. Although she was fourteen, almost a woman, Rune's heart still sang like a child's. She found beauty in all. He wished some of the other people he had met had been able to keep her childlike wonder.

"Don't worry about it, Rune. I'm sure your father will take care of things."

"You're getting off the subject," she protested, although it was she that had changed it, "I want to know about Eragon."

Murtagh shook his head and laughed. Rune hopped for subject to subject like a grasshopper. She spoke her mind, even at its most random moments.

"Eragon was raised in a small town by the Spine," he began. "He's my younger brother. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course. Eragon of Carvahall, from Selena through Morzan. Just like you."

"Right. Now, as you know, Eragon found a dragon egg. It was sent to him by Arya, the elf princess. She—"

"Arya…" Rune interrupted reverently. "She's a princess? Am I a princess, Murtagh?"

"You are," he answered with a smile. "Your father is king, and your mother…" he trailed off.

"Tell me about my mother, Murtagh."

"Galbatorix didn't tell me the whole story."

"Then tell me what you know, as always."

He sighed. "I've told you this story before."

"Stories never get old, no matter how many times you tell them."

"Alright then. Once there was a young Rider, long ago. One day, he met an elf maiden, an ambassador from the elf queen—her youngest sister. He took one look at her in all her beauty, and knew that one day she would be his," Murtagh took a deep breath and continued, "Her name was Lycona. That Rider grew up to be Galbatorix. Lycona was all but forgotten. Then, about fifteen years ago, the Ra'zac found a spy lurking around Galbatorix's castle. When they brought the spy to him, who was it but Lycona, the beautiful elf who had rejected him years before. Instead of executing her, he kept her in his castle…" Murtagh's voice faded. "You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this."

"Murtagh, I'm not a child anymore. I know where babies come from."

"Alright. Anyways, Lycona hated him. She loathed him with all her heart. When she found out she was with child, she fell into deep despair. When you were born, she tried to send you away, to her sister, the elf queen Islanzadi. But Galbatorix caught her, and made sure she would never attempt such again, for he knew her real name and could bind her to his doing. Next, she tried to send you to Brom. Once again, she failed. She died of a broken heart."

Rune looked sad. She rolled over again and placed her head in Murtagh's lap. "If she _had_ sent me to Brom, would I have grown up with Eragon?"

"Yes. He would have been…hmm, about two at the time. Perhaps, if Lycona had succeeded, the two of you would be happily married without any of this business with Saphira," he joked with her.

She chuckled. "I doubt it." she paused. "Murtagh, do you love me?"

_Yet another instance where she speaks her mind_, Murtagh thought. "I do. Like the sister I never had."

"Yes. As do I. Do you think we'll ever marry?"

"I suppose it's possible," he said. "If your father wishes it."

"I don't want to marry just because my father wishes it," Rune complained. "I want to marry for passion."

He tickled her. "You're such a hopeless romantic, my dove. I suppose you want your groom to be a knight, just in from the battle who sees you and falls madly in love at that moment," he teased.

"Oh, no," she giggled. "I want my groom to be a Rider. With a black dragon."

"Like Shuriken?"

She shook her head. "Not in the least. Shuriken is far too big and scary, and he's always grumpy. No, I want him to be a dragon like Thorn. Or perhaps like Saphira. What's Saphira like?"

"I don't know her well. But she's beautiful, that's for sure."

"She's beautiful and Thorn's handsome. They'd make a fine couple."

Thorn, who had been content watching the two and chewing on a piece of bone, choked. _I'm afraid that's the silliest thing I've ever heard,_ he thought at the two of them.

She giggled again. "I know, I know. But she's the only female dragon alive, and Shuriken is much too old for her. You _are_ the only reasonable match for her, dear dragon."

_She's a wicked fighter, that's for sure. No, Dove. Keep Saphira far from me, if you please._

Rune smiled sadly. "Yes, I suppose that's for the best. Tell me more about Eragon, Murtagh. Is he as handsome as in the poster?"

He ruffled her hair. "You're such a silly girl. Why should you care?"

She shrugged. "Never mind me. It's just, some day, when I get out of this palace, I would very much like to meet him."

"Perhaps I will succeed in capturing him and you can meet him then."

"Yes, perhaps."

Rune sighed and got up. "Goodnight, Murtagh. I do think I'll retire now."

He smiled at her. "Dream of freedom, my dove."

"Dream of freedom, Murtagh," she began to walk of, then turned back. "Dream of steaks and mead, Thorn."

Murtagh laughed as she left the room. Rune was a silly girl, full offoolish fantasies and annoying notions,but he loved her. Yes, he loved her very much.


	2. Breath of Fresh Air

Rune say by her window, tapping a slow little rhythm on the sill with her fingers. No matter what she had told Murtagh, she wasn't ready to go to sleep yet. The sunset cast red shadows on her face, coloring the city in shades of yellow and orange. It all looked so peaceful from up here.

Ilian, her cat, snoozed on the made bed behind her. The tortoiseshell tabby stretched, opening her mouth in a wide, sleepy yawn.

"Suppose I did leave, Ilian," Rune said to the cat. "Suppose I ran away in the dead of night. Where would I go?"

The cat didn't respond, other than rolling over and flicking her tail. If there was a message in this, Rune didn't understand it. She sighed and picked up the cat, moving to sit cross-legged on her bed. Ilian squirmed, slipping out of Rune's grasp and hiding under the bed.

"There would be no where for me to go," Rune answered her own question sadly. "After all, I have no relatives. Perhaps I could go to the elves—"

"Or perhaps you could stay here," Murtagh interrupted her, peeking around the door.

"Murtagh!" Rune cried, jumping. "You startled me."

He raised his eyebrows. "May I come in?"

Rune nodded, silent. Murtagh came to sit next to her, shutting the door before a frantic Ilian could escape. For the first time since he had met her, Rune's eyes were sad. They didn't glitter.

She stood up, moving closer to the window again. She brushed her fingers along the wood, looking down at the city. "Murtagh, you don't understand what it's like," she said. Her voice was different. Solemn, cheerless. Not so bubbly. "You've felt the wind in your hair, the sun's rays on your skin." A breeze blew her auburn tresses away from her face. Rune reached out her hand, letting the sun's last light play along her arm. "_This_ is the closest I will ever get to being free."

She didn't turn to face him, but in that moment, Murtagh saw the woman Rune would someday become. Beneath the happiness and joy of everyday, there was something deeper. Who would have known the little girl who begged to fly with him, asked him if he loved her, could be so serious? So sad.

Longing was written plainly on her face. "I don't know what's out there, Murtagh," she said softly. "I've never seen anything but this castle." She kicked the wall angrily. "This stupid _prison_."

She collapsed into his arms and sobbed. "I hate this," she cried, burying her face deeper in his chest. "I hate it."

She stayed there for a long time, sobbing into his tunic. Murtagh stroked her hair softly, murmuring an old lullaby he had heard somewhere:

"_There is a ballad in Carvahall, that heals the wounded soul_

_There is a ballad in Carvahall, that makes the hurting whole_

_There is a ballad in Carvahall, that stops the worried sighs_

_There is a ballad in Carvahall, that mends the pained one's cries…_"

He wrapped a strand of her hair around a finger, rocking her slowly back and forth.

Rune stopped crying, but she was still shaking. Murtagh stood her up in front of him, lifting her chin with a single finger to meet his eyes. "Hate is a strong word, dove. Would you rather be dead then live in this palace?"

She shook her head, eyes wide. Her trembling lessened.

"Then make the best of it. Live today, for tomorrow may not come."

Rune pressed her lips into a tight line. "I'm being silly, of course," she said, wiping away a tear. The old Rune was back. "I really only want to see outside once, after all. I can live without it."

Murtagh frowned. How she switched from tears to happy composure in seconds was beyond him. "Rune?"

"Yes, Murtagh?"

"Get your cloak."

"What? Why?" Rune asked, her face contorting in confusion.

Mutagh smiled. "You'll see."

"Rune blinked up at him, before fetching her red velvet cloak. "Murtagh, what's going on?" she asked, flinging it over her shoulders.

"It's about time you had a fresh breath of air."

Ancient Language:

Ilian: happiness


	3. Andlát is Death

"To Murtagh!" called Erikkin, the bartender, raising a glass to the Rider before passing it to one of the numerous men in the bar.

"To Silver Hand!" the men echoed, raising their drinks in unison. They took long swallows, before slamming their cups back on the wooden tables. Many a drink sloshed out of their mugs.

"And to his young friend," said another, tipping his drink at Rune.

Rune giggled and brought a hand up to cover her smile. She brushed her hair away from her eyes with the other. It had been plaited into a thick braid by Murtagh for her journey, and she had been decked in a scullery maid's dress.

The dress had belonged to Rune's old chamber maid. But after the young woman had forgotten to dust Rune's room, she had never seen her again.

Murtagh brought a large mug to his lips, sipping at the frothy liquid inside. He grinned at Rune. "Erikkin! Another mug for this here lass!"

Erikkin poured the glass, before sending the waitress, a girl only about Rune's age with mousy brown hair, forward with the drink.

She set it on the table, one hand on her hip. Rune picked it up as the attendant girl scurried away.

Rune brought it to her lips carefully, hesitating before taking a big swallow.

"Ugh!" she cried, spitting it on the floor with a fowl expression. Around them, the men in the bar laughed.

"First drink, eh' fair lady?"

Rune wiped her mouth, spitting again. "What _is_ that vile stuff?" she asked, coughing.

"Mead," Murtagh replied with a laugh. "Thorn loves it." He turned to Erikkin, "Perhaps some water then," he ordered.

The same serving girl delivered the water, and Rune took a huge gulp of it. She downed the water without even taking a breath.

Murtagh laughed again, patting Rune on the back. "That'll do, dove."

Rune stood up. "Murtagh, do you think we could…well, I've things I wanted to get done tonight and…"

Erikkin let out his booming laugh. "You needn't worry, lass. You'll have plenty of time to lay your Silver Hand later."

Rune was about to correct him, after all, he was saying…Her? Murtagh? Not a chance! But Murtagh gave her a face. Let it go. After all, Erikkin was only saying what he thought was true.

Rune shivered dramatically, making a disgusted face at Erikkin's proposal. Murtagh laughed, picking her up and swinging her over his shoulder. He set her back down in her chair, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Plenty of time, dove. I thought you _wanted_ to get out. What with your father…"

Rune opened her mouth the protest, but she realized that nothing Murtagh was saying was giving her away. After all, normal girls had fathers too, right?

She and Murtagh had agreed that there were to be no references on their midnight escapade to who she really was. This could prove dangerous for her. The king had enemies everywhere.

"To Freedom!" cried one of the men, raising a fist to the castle, which sat on the hill to the east. He took a deep swig of his drink.

"To Uru'baen!"

"And to the swine who rules it!"

Rune thought this seemed like some sort of tradition. Did they mock her father's name every night?

"May the Varden throw his kingdom to the dogs, and may he burn in Andlát with his vile Ra'zac!"

Rune leaned in to Murtagh. "Do they know what they are saying?" she asked, knowing that _andlát_ meant simply _death_ in the Ancient Language.

"None of them speak the old tongue, Rune," Murtagh whispered back. "To them, andlát means a place of torment."

Rune nodded. From her meager studies of the Ancient Language, she could barely tell the difference between _seithr_ and _slytha_, but _andlát _was one word she knew well. She knew it well—because she was afraid of it.

"Why do they hate my father, Murtagh?" she asked quietly.

Murtagh looked at the ground. "I'm afraid that's a story for another time, dove."

Rune nodded, then stood up. If this was the real world—a mixture of mead, sweaty men, and cursing the name of her sire, then it was hardly all she had hoped for. Without glancing back, Rune fled.


	4. Dream of Freedom

Murtagh leaned against Thorn, Galbatorix's plan echoing in his thoughts. It was a good plan, that was true, but if it worked, Rune would lose everything.

_Oh, Thorn,_ he said, hitting the back of his head against the dragon's scales. _What am I going to do?_

Thorn hissed, swiping at an imaginary enemy. _Why do you even have to ask? _he snapped, blowing a tiny lick of flame at Murtagh.

The Dragon Rider jumped out of the way, instants before Thorn pulled the fire back into his mouth. He snapped his jaws shut in Murtagh's face. _We're breaking her out, of course_, Thorn said with a frightening grin.

_It's different for you, Thorn,_ Murtagh sighed. _You're a dragon._

_You're making excuses!_ Thorn accused, shooting a stream of hot smoke at his Rider. _How could you even live with yourself if you let this happen to Rune?_

Murtagh placed a hand on Thorn's side, feeling defeated. _I…I can't. I can't help her anymore._

_Why?_ Thorn asked, scorning, _has Galbatorix forbidden you to_?

_Not yet. But he'll punish me. You too, my friend. I just can't_.

Thorn turned away, flicking his tail. _If you won't, I will, you know_._ Rune is a _**person**_. She deserves more than being sold off for her father's gain_.

_Where would I send her?_ Murtagh asked. _Surely you don't expect _**me**_ to leave with her?_

_The Varden_.

Thorn's answer surprised Murtagh. Send Rune to the Varden? That would mean sending her to Eragon. Could he do that? Could he let her go?

_You will lose her just as much if you allow Galbatorix to do as he wants to_, Thorn said, reading his thoughts. _This way, she has an opportunity to be happy_.

Murtagh ran his fingers through his hair. _Fine, dragon. You win._

Thorn let out a rumble of satisfaction. _I always do, Rider_.

oooooooooooooooo

Murtagh watched Rune carefully, savoring this moment. She looked so peaceful when she was sleeping, a look rarely captured in the rest of her animated day. He brushed her hair away from her face, rubbing a single finger along her cheek.

A single tear slipped down Murtagh's cheek. He would never again see her like this, her eyes gently closed, a faint smile on her face. Steeling himself, Murtagh shook Rune awake.

She blinked groggily up at him. "Murtagh?" She sat up, stretching in her nightgown.

Murtagh smiled at her, tossing the scullery maid's dress on the bed. "Dress yourself, Rune."

Turning towards the window, he waited while Rune slipped into the dress. She touched his shoulder hesitantly. "Murtagh? What's going on?"

Murtagh brushed the question off. "Here, let me tie that for you," he said, tightening the stays around her thin waist. He spun her around, tipping her chin up with a finger, like he had earlier.

"All is not right," he said softly. "There's no time for me to explain it, but you are in danger. You need to leave."

The fear shone in Rune's eyes clearly. "Why? Murtagh, what's wrong?"

"Go to Erikkin, the man from the bar," Murtagh said. "He's a kind man, and he'll help you."

"But he thought we—"

"I doesn't matter what he said or thought. Just tell him you're in trouble. He won't ask questions." He handed her a small sack, containing some coins—only copper and a few silver, as a peasant girl traveling with gold would be far to obvious—a worn out cloak, and a map.

Rune shook her head, her lip quivering and her eyes wide. "Murtagh, I don't understand."

Murtagh fixed his eyes on her. "Rune, please, I can't say any more."

Rune nodded, biting her lip. She took a deep breath. "I trust you, Murtagh." Slipping on her shoes, she quickly and quietly rebraided her hair. She tucked her small hand in his.

Murtagh squeezed her hand briefly, before leading her down the stairs. He brought her through the twists and turns of the castle, before stopping in front of the door that led to the courtyard.

"Alright," Murtagh said, pressing Rune's shoulder comfortingly. "This is as far as I can go. You'll have to go through the grates in the wall. You can swim, can't you?"

Rune nodded. "I think so."

"Good. You'll have to swim across the moat. It's not too deep, but you _mustn't_ touch the bottom. Understand? No matter what."

Swallowing her fear, Rune gave him a smile that doubled as a grimace. She went on tiptoes, kissing Murtagh's cheek quietly, before giving him a big hug. He hugged her back, enveloping her small figure in his strong arms.

He pressed his lips to her hair, before pushing her away. "Go now. To the Varden, in Surda. You'll be safe with Eragon."

Rune nodded hurriedly, before stepping away from him and giving his hand a final squeeze. She disappeared into the darkness.

Murtagh took a deep, low breath. "Dream of freedom, my dove."


	5. Dragon's Heart

By the time Rune arrived at the _Lion's Barrel_, she was a sorry sight indeed. Her dress was soaked, her hair scraggly. She had lost her shoes while swimming through the moat, then been chased by an angry neighborhood dog and fallen in the mud. She had a scratch on her face where she had accidentally bumped into the stone of the grate.

Her heart was pounding. She knocked on the door, rubbing dirty water out of her eyes.

It didn't take long for Erikkin to respond. He opened the door, a lantern in hand. Taking one look at her, he pressed his lips into a thin line. "Come in, lass."

Rune stepped through the door, feeling awkward and out of place. The bar looked different now that there weren't so many men in it. A fire burned in the hearth.

"Miriam!" Erikkin called. "Miriam, come here please!"

In nigh but a moment, a stout, dark haired woman with kind eyes entered the room. She was still wearing her night dress, but when she saw Rune, she was fully awake. Erikkin left to his bedroom, content his wife would take care of their guest, at least until she was dry and clean.

"My goodness!" Miriam cried, tsking at Rune's wet dress and disheveled appearance. "You must be chilled to the bone! What's your name, dear?"

"I'm…" Rune paused. How much should she tell? Thinking of Murtagh made her heart ache. Would he want her to tell her real name?

"Come now, sweet," said Miriam, unlacing Rune's dress and hanging it by the fire, then wrapping her in a warm robe. "I won't hurt you."

Suddenly Rune knew the right answer. "I'm Dove," she said. It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a lie either, so Rune didn't feel too horrible about it.

"Dove," Miriam repeated. She smiled, forming little crow's feet around her eyes. "Caryn! Mauve! Get in here!"

Two girls poked their heads out from around a doorway. Rune recognized the older as the serving girl from before. They scurried over to help their mother, wringing out Rune's dress and emptying her pack so it could dry. They laid the map out flat on the bar to air out. Rune was about to say something, but they didn't even touch the pouch with the money in it. They laid it aside, near her other things.

Erikkin came back into the room, bearing a clean rag. Dipping it in the pot of water by the hearth, he began to clean Rune's scratch.

Soon Rune was clean, dry, and warm. She smiled brightly at her helpers. Caryn, the older girl, had settled at her left, while Mauve was playing with her long, freshly cleaned hair. "Thank you," Rune said softly. She got up, grabbing the pouch that held her money. "I can't pay you much…"

Miriam folded Rune's hands over the coins she held out. "Dear, this is what we do. Tell us how we can help you."

Rune looked at the ground. "I'm not safe here. I need to leave the city."

"Is someone chasing you?"

"I'm afraid I can't say," Rune murmured. "I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you everything, but I just can't. Please understand."

Caryn placed a hand on her shoulder. Miriam nodded considerately. "Don't worry, Dove. We understand perfectly."

Erikkin grinned, handing her a cup of warm milk. "Tomorrow we'll take you to the market, get you ready for your journey. Where do you plan to go?"

Rune shrugged. "I suppose I'll head to Furnost, by lake Tüdosten. From there, who knows?" In reality, Rune had no intention of stopping in Furnost. She was headed straight to Cithrí, then onto Lithgow and Aberon in Surda. Although she wanted to trust Miriam and Erikkin, something in her wasn't ready to reveal her real plans. After all, she hadn't met many people. Who was she to judge character?

"I understand your need of secrecy," Erikkin said, reading the lie in her eyes. "We'll see if we can't get you a horse tomorrow. For now, I suggest we all get some sleep. Dove, you can share the girl's room."

Several minutes later, Rune was snuggled down under the warm covers, Caryn and Mauve on either side of her on the pallet.

Mauve fell asleep almost instantly, snoring lightly. Rune giggled.

Caryn seemed deep in thought. "Dove, what were you doing with the Dragon Rider, earlier? When you came to the bar?"

Rune shrugged. "He was a friend of mine."

"_Was?_" Caryn asked, "Did he hurt you? Is that why you're running?"

"No. Murtagh would never hurt me. He loves me."

"So you're lovers?" inquired Caryn.

Rune tucked her hands under her head. "Something like that."

Caryn nodded. "I'm to be betrothed soon. You're lucky to have a Rider. Even if he _is_ loyal to Galbatorix."

Rune nodded, silent. She still couldn't understand what was so wrong about being loyal to Galbatorix. He was not a nice man, that was for sure, but she had never thought of him as _evil_.

"But that's all over now," Rune sighed. "I doubt I'll ever see Murtagh again."

"Don't talk like that," Caryn admonished. "Love always finds a way."

"I once thought that too," Rune said, realizing for the first time how feeble that argument was. "But I'm not sure anymore."

"Everything will work out. You'll see."

Rune smiled softly in the darkness, feeling somehow older than she ever had. "Yes. Maybe it will."

ooooooooooooooo

"I want sixty crowns for him," said the man, placing his hand on the stallion's neck. "His tack is included in that deal. It's a steal, for sure, but I can't afford to keep him any longer. Too many horses, not enough space."

Rune touched the stallion's nose, feeling his warm breath. What a beautiful creature. "How old is he?" she asked, rubbing his head. The horse blinked his liquid eyes at her.

"Almost three years. He's broken and mountable, but hardly a lady's horse."

Rune laughed. "As I'm hardly a lady I don't think that'll be a problem."

Erikkin inspected the horse. "I'll give you forty for him."

"Fifty-five."

"Fifty," Erikkin countered.

The man thought for a moment, then nodded. "Done."

Rune stroked her new horse's roan coat, rubbing him in much the same way she used to rub Thorn. He nickered at her, stomping his white socked hoof. A sort of fire was held in his black eyes.

"Thou beauty," she whispered, "Thou art a mighty fighter."

"I'll get his saddle," said the man, disappearing into the stables. He returned with a heavy saddle and a bridle, both well crafted. He set the saddle on the horse's back, and handed Rune the bridle. "There you go, lass. Care for him well."

"I will," Rune assured. She slipped the bridle over his nose. "Come, beauty."

Later, in the square, Caryn stared in wonder at the horse. "He's lovely," she said, touching his mane. "Does he have a name?"

"I'll have to think of one," Rune said.

Rune recalled her only fond memory of her father. When she was about six, not a baby anymore but not quite a lass either, Galbatorix had taken an entire day out of his schedule, just for her. They had curled up together on his throne, and he had told her the legends of the dragons of the past. Of Vanilor the Great, Ingothold and Miremel.

"His name is Eridor," she stated, recalling her favorite story.

"But Eridor is a _dragon's_ name!" Mauve giggled.

Rune grinned. "It's his name too."

"Eridor is a fine name," Erikkin said. "For he is a fine horse."

Rune smiled happily, patting Eridor. "Thou art more than a fine horse," she whispered, "Thou have a dragon's heart."

**Author's Note: **

**Just wanted to mention that Eridor, Ingothold, Miremel, and Vanilor are really the name of dragons in Eragon. You'll find them when Eragon is listing off names to Saphira in the chapter A Name of Power, in the first book. I liked Eridor the best, and I really wanted to use it. But since I didn't make Rune a Rider (and have no intention of doing so as it would cross the Mary-Sue line) I decided it would be a good name for her horse. **

**Also, as regards to Rune's archaic speech with Eridor--I read in another book about dragon riders (not nearly as good as Eragon as the dragons couldn't think or talk) that talking in Old English, with the _thou's _and _art's_ is supposed to bring a dragon closer to its master. I figured _hey, why not Rune with her horse_? Hope it doesn't bug anyone too much, I know I drive my brother crazy when I talk like that.**

**Hearts to all, KittenofShadows**


	6. Think of Rune

"Where are you headed?" asked the guard from the top of the wall. His armor shone in the bright sun.

"Furnost!" Rune cried.

"What business does a lass like you have there?"

Rune had prepared for this question. "I'm visiting my uncle. He lives there." She kept her voice high and young sounding. Innocent, angelic. Just a little girl, riding to her uncle's house. Not a princess on the run. Heaven forbid _that_ idea.

"The roads aren't safe for a lass all alone," the guard advised.

"Oh, I'm not alone," Rune said, trying to keep up her act. "I've got Eridor! He's the best horse ever. He'll keep me company."

"Very well, pass on. Next!" bellowed the guard.

Rune rode through the gates, feeling free and happy. She was dressed in a rough tunic and boy's hose, with Murtagh's worn cloak draped around her shoulders. Her hair was in the ever-present braid. In town she had bought two saddle bags, which had been loaded with bread, dried meat, and a jar to put water in when she chanced upon a stream. The sack Murtagh had given her was also tied to the saddle. At her belt hung her first ever weapon, a sharp little dagger she had named Fricai.

She spurred Eridor into a gallop, He whinnied loudly, seeming to draw from his master's high spirit. His muscles bulged under the saddle.

"Run, beauty," Rune whispered to him, feeling at home in the saddle. She hadn't ridden often before, just on a pony around the courtyard when she was little, but this was different. This felt _right_. It was just Eridor and her and the sky and the plains.

"It'll take us nearly a week to reach the Varden, I'm sure," she told him. "Maybe more."

Eridor nickered, as if saying he didn't care.

"Yes," Rune responded, "Yes, I could go on like this forever too. Forget Eragon, and the Varden, and my father, and the elves. Just run and sing and be free. Fly."

Eridor sped up, as if showing off to the pretty girl on his back. _Look how fast I can go_, he seemed to say.

Rune laughed. She laughed at her father for thinking he could imprison her, at Murtagh and Miriam and Erikkin and their girls. She laughed at herself, and at Eragon. It felt good.

Night fell quickly. The pair happened upon a clear, bubbling brook, and drank deeply. The moon shone down, but neither wanted to stop.

When the sun rose again, Rune's spirits still hadn't dampened. Eridor hadn't tired, but his pace had evened. He was no longer showing off, trying to get ahead. Just running was enough.

"I'm free," Rune said reverently. She spoke to no one, not herself or Eridor. Not the plains or the sky. "I'm free."

Finally. All her life she'd dreamed of this feeling. Now she had it. Her heart sang. She felt light and airy, as if she could just lift off into the sky and be gone forever.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Murtagh felt the pain crash over him like a waterfall. He collapsed to the ground, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. _Make it stop!_ his mind cried. All he wanted was the pain to stop. To go away.

_No_, I reassured himself. _Think of something else. Think of Rune._

He filled his mind with her. The way her body had felt pressed against his in that final hug, the way she smiled. Her face. Her voice. Rune. Rune, Rune, Rune. Thinking of her made the pain lessen. Not stop, but let up. Just a little, but it was something.

Murtagh envisioned Rune riding away, towards Eragon. Eragon. He thought of her in his arms, Eragon holding her like he himself used to. The hurt came back.

_Just Rune_, he thought. Not Eragon. Just Rune. Rune's hair, Rune's eyes, Rune's gentle lips on his cheek. Nothing else existed. Not the pain, not Galbatorix, not even Thorn. Just Rune, Rune, Rune.

"Stop thinking of her!" Galbatorix bellowed. Abruptly the pain stopped. "Stop your pathetic, boyish thoughts about my daughter."

Murtagh tried to lever himself back to his feet, but didn't succeed. He vomited blood on the floor, before finally getting to his knees.

"You helped her escape," Galbatorix said. His eyes glittered dangerously, his voice was a hiss.

Murtagh didn't deny it. He said nothing, not trusting his tongue.

"Do you know how much Rune means?" asked the furious king. "Do you know how much you have cost me?"

_Rune means nothing to you,_ Murtagh thought angrily. _You care only about yourself and your stupid longing for Surda_.

Galbatorix had picked up his thoughts. "As a person, Rune means nothing. As my daughter, she is _everything_. I could have tied Surda to us in a way _beyond_ the law. She could have lead to the fulfillment of everything I have attempted."

Murtagh was still breathing hard. _Everything_ he had attempted. That meant not only Surda's lands, but Eragon and Saphira.

"Yes, Eragon and Saphira as well," Galbatorix said, with a mocking slur in his snakelike voice.

_Eragon could have suspected your trap_, Murtagh thought. _He would never have just **come**._

"Most likely not, unless I have something of…" Galbatorix grinned devilishly, "_value_ to him."

_Like what?_ Murtagh asked. His breath was still coming in ragged gasps, and he wasn't quite ready to trust his speech.

"I've heard the elf princess is a very beautiful young woman," said Galbatorix with a shrug.

_Rune is beautiful too_, thought Murtagh sullenly. Eragon would probably fall for her the instant they met. And she would be lost to him forever…

Galbatorix's eyes lit up. "Perhaps you aren't useless," he said thoughtfully. "You've aided my plan without meaning to. Eragon…and Rune…"

Murtagh stared at him. _No, no, no_! That would be horrible.

"You're dismissed, Murtagh," said the king, motioning him away with a ringed hand.

Murtagh turned to leave, feeling stunned. _What have I done now?_

**Author's Note:**

**Hey everyone. I was considering giving Rune a travel partner, and wanted you as my faithful readers help with designing him/her/it. Basically, I'm asking for character profiles. You can send them to me using the address in my profile. Stuff I'd like you to include is:**

**Name:**

**Personality:**

**Looks:**

**Age:**

**Skills/Weapons:**

**Extra: (just any extra little facts you'd like me to include or history of your character)**

**It doesn't even have to be a person, maybe an animal or something. Whatever you want. The more creative the better. If I don't choose your character for the person who's traveling with her, I may use it in the upcoming chapters. So keep on sending even after I post her new partner. You aren't limited to just one, send as many as you like:D Also, I'm always open to a picture or something of your character. Thanx again for reading!**

**Hearts to all,**

**KittenofShadows**


	7. Quite the Little Devil

**Author's Note: Thanx SOOOO much you guys for the characters you sent me. I've made my choice as far as the person Rune's traveling with, but keep sending! If I didn't pick your character for this part, I'll most likely put them in later (as a minor part, unfortunately. I'd love to use all your characters as main people, but then my story would be far too confusing and crowded! Hope you don't mind…) Also, I would prefer if you either PM or email me your characters, rather than insert them in reviews…It just makes it easier for me. Remember, I choose characters on originality and creativity!**

**Hearts to all,**

**KittenofShadows**

Rune rode into town, feeling utterly exposed and watched. Her palms were sweating. She was sure everyone in the town could see right through her disguise.

She hadn't wanted to stop in Melian at all, for fear of being arrested. What if Galbatorix had a poster of her up, like he had one of Eragon? But, as much as she hated it, she had run out of supplies. It was either take a risk or starve, and Rune had chosen to take her chances.

Her pointed ears had been disguised by a thick band of fabric tied around her forehead, keeping her hair from her eyes and her ears tight against her head. They weren't even noticeable, as she had then covered them with hair.

Rune's heart was punding so hard she was sure everyone from here to Uru'baen could hear it. She took a deep, cleansing breath, trying to calm her racing nerves.

Before she knew where she was going, Rune had stumbled into the town square. Unbidden, her eyes flew to the message board. She let out a sigh of utter relief—her picture was nowhere to be found.

"Get out of the way, lass!" someone screamed at her. Startled, Rune drew back to the edges of the square.

The market square was crowded with people. Some sort of sale was going on. From her place high on Eridor's back, she could see an ugly, brutal looking man talking to the people. Suddenly a line of children was paraded in front of him. All in chains.

Rune gasped. "_What's going on_?" she hissed, horrified. All the children were scared, their eyes haunted. She brought a hand to her mouth, eyes wide.

"Haven't you ever seen a slave market before?" scorned a man, scowling at her stupidity.

Stricken, Rune dismounted, bidding Eridor to stay put. She pushed her way through the crowd, trying to get closer to the terrible sight.

"Fifty crowns!" called the man, holding up the arm of the youngest girl, a skinny blonde who couldn't have been more than five.

Rune recoiled with revulsion. Eridor had cost fifty crowns. Certainly a _girl_, a _human being_ was worth more than a horse, as great as he was. The little girl was crying, begging. The man hit her, causing her to slump against her chains, out cold. Rune felt sick.

Trying to get away, she darted through the crowd. Soon she had reached the back of the market square, near the slave pens, where no one else went. Children with scared faces and grubby hands watched her with terrible, hating expressions from behind the bars of their wooden crates.

Rune could feel tears streaming down her cheeks. _This _was the real world? This mixture of terror and perversion? She wished she had never left the castle. She could have lived a thousand lives without seeing this. What was happening here was _wrong_.

Clamping her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming, Rune ran. She wanted to go home. Home to Murtagh, and Ilian the cat, Thorn, and even Shruikan. Home to her sheltered life where nothing could hurt her.

"What are you doing, boy?"

Rune stopped running, turning to face the voice. "I'm not a—" she started, until she realized it wasn't her being addressed.

Fire burned in her heart from what she saw. The ugly man had singled out a boy, perhaps a bit older than her. What had he done?

"Get back in your pen!" roared the man, hitting him across the face. "You know what happens to troublemakers!"

Rune was sure she didn't want to know what happened to troublemakers. The boy wiped blood from his mouth, spitting in the man's face. _Good job!_ Rune's heart called.

Fists clenching, Rune took a step towards them. Her rage gave her courage. The sick feeling in her gut had turned to anger. "Leave him alone!" she screamed, running to stand in front of the boy, who was on his knees from the blow.

"Out of my way, lass," the man growled. "That there is my property, and I'll not have you messing with it."

"_That there_ is a** _person_**!" Rune spit, feeling her hand snake towards Fricai at her side. The dagger felt strong and dangerous.

Darting forward, Rune forced the dagger into the man's gut. His eyes bulged, making him look like a distorted frog.

Rune's mouth felt open, drawing her hand away quickly. His blood was hot and sticky, coating her fingers. Her heart stopped beating, time slowed to a sickening halt. She was frozen, looking at it.

Fortunately, the boy wasn't. He grabbed her arm, dragging her back towards where Eridor was tethered with some other horses.

Rune mounted Eridor quickly, while the boy jumped on a gray mare tied up near him. Rune undid the roped with nimble fingers, trying not to think that those fingers had just _killed_ someone. For he was surely dead by now.

"Come on!" the boy cried, spurring his horse into a gallop. People screamed as the two teenagers cut through the crowd, and out through the city gates before they could be closed.

"Stop Them!" "Murderers!" "Horse Thieves!"

From his castle, far away, Galbatorix scryed them. His mouth curled into a deadly smile.

"Not such a dove anymore, eh Shruikan?" he asked, stroking the dragon's nose.

Shruiken blew a little jet of green smoke, letting it curl around the mirror. _She's become quite the little devil_.

Galbatorix laughed. "Yes, quite the devil indeed."


	8. Empty Hearted Shadow

Rune rode beside the boy in silence. The sick feeling had returned, along with a heavy guilt. The instant they were far enough away from Melian, Rune had made them stop so she could throw up.

Although she had washed the blood from her fingers, Rune's skin still burned where the sticky redness had been. No amount of water could make it stop.

"Thanks," the boy had said finally, noticing Rune's distress. His voice was soft and understanding.

Rune said nothing. Her throat was tight.

"I guess I owe you," he continued slowly.

Rune shook her head. "No. I just…I did what I had to do."

He nodded, accepting this. "What you did…I would have done the same."

Rune knew that he meant with the man. She looked at the ground. "That doesn't make it right," she whispered. "I _killed_ him."

He reverted into silence, knowing nothing he could say would fix what was going on in her heart. This strange girl who had helped him would have to resolve her own problems on this one.

Rune looked at her hands, swallowing. What would Murtagh think if he saw her now? Would she still be his dove? Or would he see her as she now saw herself—a murdering, pampered princess who knew nothing about the world she now found herself in.

What scared her the most was she wasn't sorry she had killed the man. She felt guilty, yes, but he had deserved it. It made her sick to think it was her fault, but she didn't regret it.

She sighed, trying to choke back another flood of tears. Her shoulders shook. Eridor looked back at her, blinking his big dark eye with concern.

The boy ran his fingers through his black hair. "I'm Súndavar, by the way," he told her. "Súndavar Eddyrheart."

"Rune," answered the princess. Her brow furrowed. "Your name…it means Empty Hearted Shadow…" She was trying to figure out where she had seen him before. There was something distinctly familiar about him.

He snorted. "Well, I owe that to my father," he paused, "Have you a last name?"

Rune shook her head. "No. If I have one I've never known it."

He accepted this. "Where will you go, now that…"

"What? Now that what?"

Súndavar hesitated, biting his lip. "Well…you're a…"

"What? A _murderer_?"

He nodded. "You won't be welcome in the towns now. Where will you go?"

"My destination hasn't changed. I'm heading to the Varden. In Surda. You are welcome to come with me."

He sat quietly, looking thoughtful. His evergreen eyes were dark, serious. "Alright."

Rune examined him with her glittering eyes. His black hair blew in wind, fringing his eyes. Pointed ears just barely peeked out from under his chin length hair, and his arms were lined with well developed muscles. Rune could imagine him with his shirt off very easily—rather too easily. A tiny metal snake hung on a leather chain around his neck. A nasty looking scar started on his collarbone, then disappeared beneath his tunic. The strange sense of déjà vu Rune felt intensified when she saw the scar.

They settled into a comfortable silence again, neither able to read the other's thoughts. Rune bit her lip. She had made a friend.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Darkness fell quietly, bringing with it the coldness of night. The plains seemed empty of life once again.

"We're nearing Cithrí," Rune said, squinting at the map. "Will they be searching for us too?"

Súndavar shrugged. "I doubt it. Cithrí is part of Surda."

Rune smiled. "Then we'll get a room at an inn there. I still have some money. We can get warm food. Maybe even hitch a ride to Aberon."

Súndavar nodded. "Let's just start with getting a room."

Riding into Cithrí, Rune didn't have any of the qualms, nervous feelings, as she did in Melian. The people looked up from whatever they were doing to smile at her and Súndavar as they rode through the streets. The inn—which was also a tavern—wasn't hard to find. The _Goat and Serpent_ was a cheery enough place, enough so that it made Rune's heart ache for Erikkin and Miriam.

The bartender looked up at them from his polishing mugs as they sat at the bar. "What can I get you?"

"Two mugs of mead, if you please," Rune said with a grin. They took their drinks to the back of the room, to the only table that wasn't occupied.

Rune took a sip of the mead, forcing herself to swallow it. It tingled as it went down her throat. She raised her glass. "Here goes nothing," she said to Súndavar, before downing half the mug. It felt warm and tingly in her stomach.

Súndavar took a slow swallow, before pushing the mug away. "Come on," he said, getting up, "I hate crowds."

Rune nodded, before asking the bartender for a room.

They were shone to a small, upstairs room, with a large bed and curtains. Rune noticed that there were spider webs in the corners, but she said nothing. She thanked the bartender.

She stripped her breeches off, letting her long tunic serve as a sort of nightdress, ending mid-thigh. She plopped down on the bed, her hair splaying out around her. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. "This has got to the best bed I've ever slept in," she murmured. It wasn't as nice as her bed at the castle, but she had never appreciated a soft place to sleep more.

Súndavar stripped off his tunic, before collapsing beside her. A slow grin spread over his face. "This beats sleeping on the floor in a crate any day."

Rune opened her eyes and turned to look at him. "We've got to get to Aberon. We should get some rest."

Súndavar nodded and peeled back the covers. He waited for Rune to snuggle in before curling up next to her. A shiver went through his body as she traced his scar with a gentle forefinger.

"Where'd you get that?" she asked, her voice soft and quiet.

Súndavar felt her green eyes burning into his. He looked away, closing his eyes to help him remember. "I was little. My mother had just died, so my father had to bring me with him. I don't remember where we went, but we met with a man. There was a little girl too. The man screamed at her, told her to leave him. She hid behind the door. I remember her smile. She put a finger over her mouth, so I wouldn't tell."

Rune frowned. Something was familiar about the story, but she couldn't tell what it was.

Súndavar's voice tightened, as if he was fighting tears. "The man yelled a lot. My father tried to calm him down, but it didn't work. He killed my father with his own sword, then threw it at me. I was bleeding a lot. He screamed, telling me to die with my father. The little girl came and held my hand. The man hit her. I don't remember anything after that."

Rune tucked her hair behind a pointed ear. She wasn't sure what to say. Súndavar turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. Rune touched his shoulder hesitantly, then drew away. She sighed, twisting to lie on her side, facing the wall. "Good night, Súndavar."

"Dream of freedom, Rune."

She frowned determinedly. "No. It's not just a dream anymore."


	9. Doomed

Súndavar woke when the sun rose. He didn't move, enjoying the feeling of Rune's body against his, soft and warm. He ran his fingers through her hair. He knew she was beautiful, something Súndavar had never thought about a girl before.

Súndavar had known plenty of girls in his life. There was tough Kaitrin, the headstrong slave girl who had been sold in Yazuac. Sweet little Angel, the blonde girl Rune had seen the market at Melian. Spiteful Hanna, who thought she was the best because her father had been a merchant. But none of them were like Rune.

Rune stirred, arching her back like a cat. Her legs felt smooth and soft under the covers. Súndavar pulled away, kicking off the blankets and ending the blissful contact between their bodies. He stood up, shrugging his tunic back on.

Rune looked up at him, blinking sleep from her eyes. She yawned, before swinging her bare legs over the edge of the bed. Súndavar threw her pants at her, feeling strange and fluttery as he watched her slip into them.

She looked up to see him staring. She raised an eyebrow, then laughed. Her laugh sounded like a thousand chiming bells to Súndavar.

She flicked him in the back of the head on her way out the door, trotting down the steps briskly. He followed slowly, trying to work out his thoughts. He had only met Rune yesterday, but already he felt attached to her. And he had never felt attached to anyone; that was one thing you learned quickly when you were a slave. People came and went, died and were sold.

The bartender greeted them, raising his eyebrows at Súndavar's disheveled tunic and rumpled pants. "Quite a night, eh'?"

Súndavar frowned, then realized what he was implying and turned red. Rune turned around, narrowing her eyes at the man. Flicking her hair over he shoulder, she stomped out of the door. Súndavar saw her mount Eridor through the window. He darted out after her, knowing that she would very well ride off without him if it struck her fancy.

He jumped on the gray mare, riding quickly to catch up to her. "Were you going to leave me here?" he asked, accusingly.

She didn't look at him. "You know," she said, pacing expertly with her horse's stride, "Your mare needs a name. You can't continue to call her 'gray mare'."

Súndavar thought that calling her 'gray mare' was fine, but he didn't want Rune to think him stubborn. "How about Finna?"

Rune pursed her lips. "Peace? Well, alright. Finna it is then."

They rode for several minutes, before Rune completely forgave Súndavar for whatever wrong he had supposedly committed and started jabbering again.

Súndavar let her words fade, happy just to hear her voice. It grew dark quickly, and they stopped, making camp.

Rune laid on the ground next to Súndavar, looking up at the heavens. "I used to watch the stars from my window back home," she whispered, as if speaking out loud would break the moment. "I pretended that the first one I saw each night was really my mother, looking down at me from Safeguard and smiling."

"Safeguard?"

Rune looked at him, tearing her eyes from the glittering scene above. "Oh, it's just some imaginary place I made up. I used to tell myself stories about it. Flowers bloomed all year, even when it snowed, and no one ever hurt anyone else."

"Sounds like heaven."

Rune smiled sadly. "Yeah…" She moved closer, laying her head against his chest. Her legs brushed his. "'Night." She was asleep in moments.

Súndavar sighed. "Dream of Freedom." He wrapped his arms around her, tucking his nose in her hair. She smelled of fresh rain and moonlight.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Eragon parried the blow, striking out with one of his own then drawing back at the last moment. His attacker fumbled, but recovered quick enough to block the downward swipe of Eragon's blade. Eragon made a move forwards, then pulled out and quickly forced in again, knocking the other person over.

Ready to end the battle, he brought his sword up. Suddenly the breath was forced from him, as his attacker planted a booted foot in his chest.

The other swordsperson flipped up, ramming the butt of his blade into Eragon's chest. The Rider fell over, sitting down hard on his rear. A cold, final blade was pressed to his neck.

"Point, Captain Shay!"

Shay flipped her—for Eragon's attacker was a she—hair over her shoulder, then helped Eragon to his feet. Pride shone in her open blue eyes. She grinned at him. "You're a remarkable swordsman, Argetlam."

Eragon wiped sweat from his brow, accepting water from a boy who had run up. He sipped deeply, then offered the flask to Shay. She drunk, then handed it back to the boy. She dusted her hands off, sheathing her blade.

On the edge of the training grounds, Saphira watched quietly.

Eragon sheathed his sword as well, a simple blade with no gem in the pummel. He had been offered first choice of any sword in the smith's shop, but none of them had felt right. Zar'roc was still his sword.

"Are you hungry, Shadeslayer?" the Captain asked. She was a few years older than Eragon, but in the past few weeks she had become a friend and ally.

Eragon shrugged. "Very well, Captain."

Shay pretended not to notice the envious looks some of the Varden girls gave her as she walked with Eragon towards the small inn. There was nothing between her and Eragon, and she was very sure it would stay that way. As the youngest captain—and the only female—there were numerous rumors circulating about her, most involving King Orrin. Eragon was one of the few people who looked past them.

They sat down at a table, Eragon ordering a salad and Shay a steak. The food came quickly, and both dug in.

Shay ran her fingers through her hair, which had been cropped short for the battle several weeks before. She missed her long tresses, but Eragon repeatedly assured her that she looked fine.

They chatted amiably over their food. Several of the people turned to stare at the Rider and his pretty companion, but none made any comments. Shay was glad for that, because if she had to explain to one more person that she in fact _hadn't_ kissed Eragon, had no intention of becoming his lover, and didn't have any interest in him in that way, she was fairly sure she would scream.

Then the door of the inn burst open, shaking Shay from her reverie.

Eragon stood up, a hand on his sword. Trianna the sorceress stepped forward. "Ra'zac," she hissed, before collapsing. Shay rushed to her, Eragon a few steps behind.

"She'll be fine," Shay said, taking her pulse with two fingers. "Just shock. Her heart's going crazy."

Eragon nodded, running out the door. _Saphira!_ He called with his mind, feeling the word echo through his head.

In seconds Saphira landed by his side. He hopped on her. He didn't tell her what they were looking for, but she seemed to know. _Oh, little one_.

_Just go! _He cried, not wanting to think about it. He dreaded what he would find along with the Ra'zac. Burning houses? Charred human remains? People screaming in agony? Would he be too late?

Just outside the city he spotted them. He couldn't tell what they were doing from his height. _Land, Saphira_.

The dragon spiraled out of the sky. Eragon got a clearer view of what was going on. The monsters were attacking a young man, probably only a year or so younger than Eragon. He was holding his own, but barely. A girl laid in the grass near him. She didn't move.

_Egg crushers! _Saphira screamed, _Destroyers!_ She spewed fire at them, landing and swiping at them with her dangerous claws.

Noticing for the first time they were outmatched, the Ra'zac turned to Eragon with contempt. Their dark cloaks billowed around them like shadows.

"Gángir Helgrind!" one hissed.

In a flash of whirling smoke, the Ra'zac disappeared.

Eragon stared in shock. How did they do that? One moment they were there, and the next…

"Rune!"

It was the boy who yelled. He had dashed to the girl's side. He flipped her over.

Eragon moved quickly, nearly flying over the ground. He kneeled beside the boy, who was shaking his friend nervously. She didn't stir. Eragon saw the pitted wounds that laced her torso nervously. He bit his lip. Had he gotten there in time?Had Eragon failed?

_Would she live? Or was she doomed?_

**Ancient Language:**

**Gángir Helgrind: To Helgrind! (literally 'To the Gates of Death')**

**Author's Note: I am soooooo sorry for not updating for a while. I was having computer problems. :D **

**Hearts to all, KittenofShadows**


	10. Son of a Shade

Rune awoke to pain. Her body felt red and hot and itchy. Her head pounded. She couldn't see anything. She felt sick to her stomach. Her rolled over and vomited over the side of the bed. She shivered, but she wasn't cold. Thoughts felt funny and hard to string together. Where was she? Where was Súndavar?

Finally she sunk into dark relief.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Angela frowned. "She woke up earlier. Only for a minute. Lovely girl, isn't she? How's her friend?"

"He refuses to eat, sleep—even drink," Eragon answered, shaking his head. "It's been three days, Angela. Can't you tell if she's going to make it? Any longer and he's going to kill himself."

"Her wounds are healing rather well, considering their origin. But I can't promise anything."

Eragon sighed. He hadn't even been able to get a name out of the boy. The girl's was presumably _Rune_, but no one could tell him who she was or where she had came from. No one he had asked had seen her before. "Tell me if anything changes, will you?"

Angela smiled kindly. "But of course. See if you can't get anything more from the boy, won't you?"

Eragon nodded, leaving the herbalist in peace to tend to her charge.

He found the boy in his chambers in the castle, sitting on the bed and staring off into space. His blood-colored eyes were blank and empty. He didn't turn at the sound of the door.

Eragon sat down next to him. "Hello."

"Is she dead?"

Eragon raised his eyebrows. What sort of greeting—but he let it go. At least he had gotten the boy to talk, which was more than he had succeeded in before. "No. She's not."

The boy blinked, but remained silent.

"You could see her, if you want," Eragon pressed, wanting to get him talking again.

"Why? She's just going to die in the end, isn't she? What's the point of going to see her?" his voice was flat, but Eragon picked up great, deep despair held in it, almost hidden completely.

"We don't know that."

"She will," the boy said with certainty. "That's how it always ends. They say they'll always be there, and then you wake up and they're gone."

Eragon looked at his hands. What had happened in this boy's past, to make him so sad, so hopeless?

"What's your name?"

"Empty Hearted Shadow," he whispered. "It's what I've become. My father was right to name me such."

Eragon grabbed his forearm, suddenly and unexplainably wrathful. "Listen, okay? I want to help. But I can't, not with your griping and stupid riddles. I'm doing everything I can, but you need to try too."

The boy blinked, then opened his eyes. Eragon was startled to find them not red, but a dark green. The boy brought a hand to his forehead, confused. "What…what just happened?"

Eragon let go of him, speechless. "I…I don't know."

"I was talking," he said, frowning, "But it wasn't…me. I couldn't control my words. Like…"

"Like what?"

He shook his head. "Nothing," he said, just a bit too quickly. He extended a hand to Eragon. "I'm Súndavar Eddyrheart."

oooooooooooooooooooo

"And then they were green!"

Angela stared at him, a dark expression on her face. "Are you sure? That's _exactly_ what happened?"

Eragon nodded, looking discreetly into the room where Súndavar was talking quietly to Rune. Since his 'Awakening', as Eragon now called it, he had been fine. Completely normal, with no traces of the dark thing he had been just a few hours ago.

Angela began to pace, murmuring things to herself.

"What's wrong with him?" Eragon asked, "What was it that happened?"

Angela ignored the question, asking her own instead. "Eragon, do you know what makes a Shade a Shade?"

"He allows spirits to control him."

"And do you know what spirits are?"

_Spirits?_ Eragon had always thought they were dead people, like ghosts. But what Oromis had told him about death while he was in Ellesméra made him second think that answer. After a moment of pondering, he shrugged. "No."

Angela nodded slowly. "Spirits live all around us. They are alive, and they have will, but not a consciousness. They are the elements personified. A spirit is part of a bigger picture. They can act as one, or as a whole with others of their type. Water, earth, fire, wind, and shadow, those are the types."

She looked at Eragon to make sure he was following. "So, you see a man—or woman—becomes a Shade when he allows his body to be taken over by these spirits. In particular, by Spirits of Shadow. Some are more susceptible to their control, others less. This susceptibility is often determined by heritage."

"You mean he's a Shade?" Eragon asked, taking another glimpse of the boy. He didn't _look_ like a Shade…

Angela laughed. "Him? Oh, no. Spirits of Shadow feed on feelings of wrath, sadness, fear, hatred. His despair in mourning his friend most likely summoned them. He momentarily lost control."

"But other people feel angry and sad all the time," Eragon protested.

"True. But as I said, some are more easily swayed."

Eragon bit his lip. "So, if it's determined by heritage, and he's susceptible to control, that must mean…"

Angela grinned. "You've finally got it! While you're a Shade slayer, that boy in there is a Shade's son."

Eragon frowned, unsure how this affected everything. Was he evil? What about his friend? Would they both have to be evicted? He voiced his concerns to Angela.

"No, of course not!" she snipped, appalled at the idea. "He's not a _Shade_, Eragon, he's the son of one. Most likely part elf as well, from his appearance. Would you like to be thrown out because you're the son of Morzan?"

It was as if Angela had slapped him. Didn't she understand he was still sensitive about that? "No," he admitted, trying to control his voice so he didn't sound like a whining child. "No, I see your point."

Súndavar poked his head out the door. His eyes were sad. "I can't get her to wake up."

Angela batted him aside. "Is that what you've been trying to do? You haven't shaken her, have you? Of course she's not going to wake up!"

The healer didn't look at them again, rather started throwing mushrooms and herbs into a pot. She began mixing them with a ferocity that told Eragon it was time to leave. When Angela got into a fit, it was best to be somewhere else.

"Come on, Súndavar. You've got to be hungry."

Súndavar nodded. He hadn't eaten in three days. "Yes, Argetlam."

They went to the castle kitchens, where the cook was happy to allow them first taste of his marvelous concoction. Súndavar attacked the mutton the instant it was put in front of him.

Captain Shay joined them a few minutes later, after the third piece of meat had disappeared into Súndavar's mouth. She raised her eyebrows. "Made a friend, have you Eragon?"

"Súndavar, this is Captain Shay of King Orrin's Elite. Shay, Súndavar Eddyrheart."

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Shay said with a smile. "Welcome to Aberon, Súndavar."

Súndavar grinned, finally finished his inhalation of food. "Likewise, Captain. A pleasure."

"How fares the girl?" Shay asked Eragon, having heard about the mystery girl sleeping in the witch's chambers.

"_Rune_ is fine," Súndavar answered before Eragon could open his mouth. "Her wounds are healing."

Eragon cleared his throat, a clear sign for the boy to shut his mouth. "She's progressing well, but Angela knows nothing for sure."

Shay nodded sadly. "If only we knew who she was. Does she have parents?"

Eragon turned to Súndavar. The boy shrugged. "I met her at the slave market in Melian. We haven't talked about what happened before. She seems content to live in the present, rather than dig at old wounds."

"So you have no idea where she might have come from?"

Súndavar narrowed his eyes. "Even if I did, _Shadeslayer_, I wouldn't betray her secrets. All the same, all I know is that she was headed to the Varden. She invited me to join her."

Eragon sighed. "Alright. Come, Súndavar. I'll take you back to your quarters."

"I'm perfectly capable of finding them myself," Súndavar snapped. He got up and left the room.

"What's up with him?" asked the Captain, letting her hair out of its short ponytail.

Eragon shivered. "_That boy is the son of a Shade._"

Shay blinked. "Eragon, don't hold it—"

"I don't!" Eragon snapped, too hastily. Shay read the lie in his eyes.

"You shouldn't judge people like that, Eragon," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "You of all people should know that."

She left the room in a huff, Eragon staring bewilderedly after her. _What had he said?_

**Author's Note: Hi everyone. I've had some people asking about a possible relationship between Eragon and Captain Shay. Unfortunately, I have other plans for Eragon. Just wanted to give all you hopeless romantics out therea heads up, so you aren't too heartbroken.**


	11. Awaken, Maiden

**Author's Note: I would like to dedicate this chapter to Lily Shay**, **for her encouragement and reviews, and for coming through with a great character. It means a lot to me. Hearts to you, Kittie**

Rune watched the healer carefully, not moving from her place on the bed. It hurt to move, hurt to breathe, hurt to lie still, but the pain had faded from a coursing scourge to a dull, aching hum.

Her fever had subsided, along with the vomiting and ranting, but Rune hadn't yet found enough strength to talk. Angela went about her day blabbering aimlessly, just to keep Rune from being bored, it seemed, and had never expected the girl to answer any of the questions posed to her.

The princess was growing rather fond of Angela. She liked her voice, and her curly hair, and the way her hands moved so quickly. Solembum, too. By day we would curl up at her side, speaking to her silently. She had never responded to him, but it didn't seem to matter. It confused her how he could talk, as he was a cat, but she had seen stranger things and dismissed it. He had offered to catch a rabbit for her, an offer she had politely declined.

Rune wasn't sure how long she had been laying there. Sometimes it seemed like no time at all, while others it seemed like years. Her wounds were nearly healed, but still she stayed.

Angela was still talking. "…all toads are frogs but not all frogs are toads. Well, no frogs are toads…"

Rune let her words fade again. She closed her eyes. It seemed like only a few moments before she heard the door opening. Súndavar poked his head through the open doorway.

"Knock, if you please," Angela said tartly, not turning up from her work.

"I'm here to see Rune. May I come in?"

Angela glanced up, then down again. "If you must. I'm going out to collect some herbs I saw earlier, so don't touch anything while I'm gone." She bustled out the door, leaving the two alone.

Súndavar sat down by Rune's bed. He was silent for a moment, then smiled. "How are you?"

Rune blinked, biting her lip. She wasn't sure if she was ready to speak yet. She might be able to, but doing such would effectively end her sick days. No more listening to Angela talk, no more having Solembum flick his tail in her face. Was she ready for that?"

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," Súndavar assured her, as if reading her thoughts. "I just wanted to know how you were. How are your scars?"

Rune shrugged, wiggling down under the blankets more to cover more of her chest. Súndavar noticed her bare shoulders and turned pink. "Oh…I see. I can leave, if you want."

Shaking her head emphatically, Rune smiled at him. Her mind was bursting with things to say, but she held them back. Finally she settled on a short, simple sentence.

"I missed you."

Súndavar smiled back at her. "Me too. _Eragon's_ checked on you every day. I think he feels responsible."

Rune frowned. "I don't remember him coming in. What does he look like? Is he as handsome as they say?"

"You were sleeping. I spied on him from the doorway…" Súndavar didn't answer the question about Eragon's looks.

Rune cocked her head. "You don't seem to like him."

"Not much," Súndavar admitted. "But he doesn't like me either, so it's okay."

Solembum hopped onto Rune's chest. _Who is this, Rune?_

_My…my friend,_ Rune answered in her thoughts, without meaning to. Solembum looked pleased at her progression. He hopped to the floor, and skittered out the door, promising to return with a mouse of celebration.

Rune made a face at his proposition. Súndavar laughed. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, that's—" she paused. "You mean you couldn't hear him?"

"Who, that cat?"

Rune nodded. "His name's Solembum. You're sure you didn't hear him talking?"

"Cat's don't talk," Súndavar said, brushing Rune's hair away from her face. "You've been sleeping too long, friend."

Rune laughed. "Angela will be back soon. You'd better go, or risk being caught in a discussion about the virtues of frogs and their untoadliness."

Súndavar grinned. "Alright. I'll see you later then, right?"

"Count on it."

Súndavar pushed his chair back from the bed, standing up. He leaned over, bringing his face dangerously close to Rune's. Pressing his lips to her forehead gently, he retreated without a word.

Rune swallowed. Murtagh had kissed her like that countless times, but for Súndavar, this was a first. She wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"I see you can talk, little Rune," Angela said, coming back through the door. Rune didn't ask how she knew.

"Yes…I can."

The herbalist lifted the blanket, smearing more herbs and mushroom goop on her sores. Rune laid still. When that was done, Angela replaced the blanket and went about her work.

"There was a time there where I wasn't sure you were going to make it," Angela admitted, twisting a chain of herbs into a braid to use later. "You were quite feverish, and you talked in your sleep."

"What did I say?" Rune asked, hoping she hadn't betrayed her secret. Although maybe…jut maybe…she would tell Angela. As payment for taking such good care of her.

"Mostly things along the lines of _Galbatorix, Murtagh, and Thorn_. I'm insanely curious as to why, but of course you don't have to say anything."

Rune sat up, taking some undergarments, a fresh tunic, and a pair of hose off the back of a chair. They looked like they would fit.

"Eragon left those for you when you woke up," Angela said. She hadn't looked at Rune to see her pick them up, but Rune had learned that often Angela just _knew_.

Rune put on the underclothes, then slipped the tunic over her head, trying and failing not to catch on her pointed ears. When she had straightened herself out, she fastened the belt around her waist and climbed into the hose.

Rune admired herself quietly. The tunic was in hues of green, while the riding pants were light, supple leather, the color of tea with cream in it. She slipped on her boots she had bought back in Uru'baen—which hadn't been damaged—and grinned. She was ready to journey out of the room. But first—

"Angela?"

"Hmm?"

Rune took a deep breath. "I have to talk to you about something."

oooooooooooooooooooooo

"You awaken, maiden!" Eragon said, taking several long strides to her side.

Rune looked at him and smiled. She had braided her hair like a crown around her head, up out of her face, displaying her pointed ears proudly. Eragon thought she looked great.

"Are you hungry?"

Rune shrugged, not sure who this strange—if handsome—man was. Life in a castle, with dark secrets creeping about, had taught her to be wary of strangers. "Don't think me rude, but may I ask, sir, who you are?"

Eragon blinked dumbly at her for a minute, then extended his hand, gedwëy ignasia up. "Eragon Shadeslayer."

Rune's mouth fell open. She couldn't speak for a moment. Finally she managed to stutter: "You...you look different on the posters," she paused, then hastily added, "Argetlam." She wasn't sure if she should curtsy or bow. In a confused attempt to do both, she toppled over.

Eragon laughed. Rune liked his laugh, rich and deep. She grinned, picking herself up off the ground.

"It won't do to have you with Angela, now that you're healed," he said, still chuckling. "Have you a preference on chambers?"

Rune shook her head. "I'm here to join the Varden. Wherever they sleep is fine by me. I don't want special treatment."

Eragon raised an eyebrow. "That, we'll have to take up with Lady Nasuada, my liege lord and leader of the Varden. I don't think they've ever had a child join the Varden alone. As far as sleeping goes, I would put you with your friend, but I'm not sure about the _virtue_ of that decision."

Rune turned pink. "I'm still a maiden, if that's what you mean. Súndavar and I aren't lovers."

Eragon grinned. "He's told me as much. Though he does seem protective of you."

"We've come a long way together."

"All the same," Eragon said, "Angela made me promise to take care of you. You'll sleep in my chambers, with Saphira and I. That way I needn't worry about you."

Rune paled. "Um…I thank you. But…may I ask _why_ you would do that? You've hardly met me."

"I rescued you and Súndavar from the Ra'zac—"

Rune interrupted him. "Súndavar could have taken care of it all on his own."

"Maybe so. But he didn't, and you got hurt. That wouldn't have happened if I had gotten there sooner."

"I don't want you feeling responsible, if that's what you're saying."

"But it's a Rider's lot to feel so."

"Very well," Rune agreed, not as put out by the prospect of sharing chambers with Eragon as she pretended.

**Author's Note: Hey guys. I wanted to point out something I forgot to mention. Everything in the Ancient Language that appears in this book is real, minus some slight variations of grammar ('gánga' to 'gángir') due to using them in different format. This is mostly just to make the words flow, like the Ancient Language should. Hearts to all, KittenofShadows**


	12. The Wrong Idea

**Author's Note: The friends Rune makes in this chapter are based on real people. To this end, I would like to dedicate this chapter to Joe, Ajay, and Lmo. Hearts always, KittenofShadows.**

Rune felt the dragonfire in Saphira's chest. She liked Saphira, but being in the dragon's presence made her ache for Thorn.

_What troubles you, little one?_ asked Saphira, noticing her distress.

"You remind me of an old friend," Rune answered softly. "You would have liked him."

Saphira smiled in her dragon way, pleasure emanating from her into Rune's mind. Rune pulled her hand away, setting it in her lap. She sighed softly.

Last night was the best she had ever had, sleeping with Saphira's inner fire pressed up against her. She hadn't been as uncomfortable around Eragon—even in her nightclothes—as she thought she would be, he was very nice and understanding. He reminded her of Murtagh.

Rune got up. "Saphira, I'm going to get some fresh air."

Saphira blew a trail of sweet smoke at her. _Very well. I'll tell Eragon where you've gone…when he awakens._

Rune giggled, glancing down at Eragon's sleeping face. In slumber, you couldn't tell him apart from any other Varden boy. He looked vulnerable, sweet, even a little angelic. Rune shook her head at the thought, leaving before her laughter could awaken the Rider.

She was still giggling when she left the castle, reaching the training grounds. Without meaning to, she was keeping an eye out for Súndavar, but he was no where to be seen.

She walked up to a group of girls, who looked about her age.

"…I heard he's sharing his _personal chambers_ with her!" said one girl. Her voice was hushed and urgent.

The two other girls gasped, before noticing Rune. They smiled.

"_Kvetha_," Rune greeted.

The tallest, a pretty brunet with eyes that glinted with bottled magic, grinned back. "_Un gán ono_."

"I'm Rune," she introduced herself, feeling slightly out of place. She had never known anyone her age, besides Súndavar, and the silly page from the castle stables. And they were boys. Caryn and Mauve too, but somehow they didn't count.

"Jo'Hanna, but call me Jo," responded another. Her hair was the color of gold, and was braided like a warrior's. "That's Ellemo, and Alexia."

Alexia smiled, but didn't look Rune's way. Her eyes were milky. It took Rune a moment to realize she was blind.

"I'm training to be a warrior," Jo said. "So is Lexia. Elle is Trianna's new apprentice."

"Trianna?"

"A sorceress in Du Vrangr Gata," Ellemo answered, her tones making it clear that Rune should have known that already.

"Sorry," Rune apologized. "I just got here. I don't know many people."

"Did you come with your family?" Jo asked.

Rune shook her head. "I don't have a family. My mother died when I was a baby. My father…he's dead too. I came to escape Galbatorix."

"_Escape?_" Lexia asked, her sightless eyes wide. She sounded insanely interested. "Really? Why would he want you? Will he chase after you?"

Rune wasn't sure how to answer. "I'm…I'm not sure. He might be very glad to get rid of me. Or he'll want me back very much. I don't pretend to understand how he thinks. As to why he wants me…I suppose it could be called a matter of ill birth." _Ill birth_! Rune almost laughed. _The most ill birth possible_.

"Did you see Shruikan?" asked Lexia. "What does he look like?"

Jo rolled her eyes. "Excuse Lex. She always asks too many questions."

Rune laughed. "Yes, I saw Shruikan. I was a prisoner, so I didn't see him often, but he was magnificent. Massive, the color of night laced with blood and anger. His voice echoed throughout the halls, though he never spoke aloud. You could feel his power just by setting your sights on him from a distance."

Lexia shivered at Rune's description. "He sounds wonderful. Evil and glorious at the same time."

"You have a knack for descriptions," Ellemo said primly. "More often than not someone will portray something to her and Lexia won't be satisfied."

"You just don't know how to depict something for the life of you," Lexia grumbled to her friend. "I ask about an arrow you say _'it's…straight…long…'_"

Jo chuckled. "She's got you there, dear mage."

Ellemo sniffed in mock annoyance.

"What were you talking about before I got here?" Rune asked, thinking she already knew the answer.

"The girl Eragon Shadeslayer's got in his quarters."

Rune pursed her lips, smiling and looking away while raising her eyebrows. Their mouth's dropped open.

"You mean…" "You!" "Kissed you?" "Bedded him?" "Lovers?"

The questions flew at Rune faster than she could answer them. When she finally got it straight that the sharing of Eragon's chambers was for safety reasons only, at least until her wounds healed completely, she was met with envious stares.

"Haven't you been listening?" she asked. "It's not like that!"

Ellemo rolled her eyes. "Quit pretending." There was envy in her voice.

Rune sighed, slapped her forehead. A few moments later, Eragon was at her side.

"Morning, Rune," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "Made some friends, have you?"

Rune nodded. She pulled Eragon aside, whispering his predicament in his ear. Her breath felt warm on his skin and smelled of peppermint.

"So you see," she said, "I _told_ them it wasn't like that, but they didn't believe me."

Eragon chuckled. "Let them believe as they wish."

The was something Murtagh would say. Rune's voice caught in her throat. Her eyes teared up.

"What's wrong?" Eragon asked, looking at her with concern.

Rune forced a smile, shaking the tears away. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Eragon extended a hand to wipe away her tears, then let it drop before he touched her skin. "I've got a rematch scheduled with Captain Shay. Would you like to come along?"

Rune nodded. She had seen Galbatorix's vast collection of swords—most stolen from his slain enemies—and Murtagh had shown her some of the parries and thrusts, but she had never witnessed a duel. She jittered with excitement.

"Come along then," Eragon said, leading her off. We waved to the girls.

From the corner of her eye, Rune saw Ellemo glare at her. She rolled her eyes. They had the wrong idea about Eragon and her. But, try as she may to deny it, she was somehow glad they did.

**Pronunciation:**

**Ellemo: EL-uh-mo**


	13. One Week

Eragon faced Shay, grasping his nameless sword tightly. Shay stood erect, one hand on her hip. The other held her blade, _Thornessa_. She swayed slightly, rocking on her heels.

Rune watched from the sidelines. Súndavar hadn't shown up. _Where was he?_ She hadn't seen him since last night's kiss, and was beginning to worry.

Eragon made the first move. He whirled his sword brilliantly, striking and retreating. Shay parried his every move, sending sparks flying as the swords clashed against each other.

Shay's movements were liquid, catlike, but Eragon had strength on his side. Twirling his blade, he struck Shay on the arm. She recoiled, letting out a sharp, startled yelp of pain. Then all was silent again, save for the swords in their deadly dance.

It seemed as if neither could gain mastery. One moment Eragon was winning, the next Shay succeeded in scoring another hit. Finally, in a stunning display, Eragon knocked Shay's sword from her grasp.

Hoping he had finally won, Eragon advanced. He brought his sword in a sideways swipe. Shay's boot met the flat of his blade, sending it whirling. Both were weaponless.

Shay grinned at him, before attacking with a confusing mixture of kicks and jabs. Eragon fended them off. Shay went on the defensive as Eragon forced her backwards. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Eragon knocked her over. He had his foot on her chest before she could blink.

"Point, Eragon Shadeslayer!"

Eragon removed his foot, helping her up. They bowed to each other, both bending at the waist. Rune wondered why Shay didn't curtsy, but she decided it was because she wasn't wearing a skirt.

Shay punched Eragon playfully in the shoulder. He smiled back. "_You're a remarkable swordswoman, Captain Shay,_" he said teasingly.

Rune joined him in the center of the battlefield, unsure quite why but feeling the necessity to do so.

Shay looked at her, smiling. She glanced at Eragon. "You've developed a talent for picking up stray children, Argetlam," she said. Rune could tell from her voice she didn't intend it to be mean.

Rune gave her a half bow. "I'm Rune, Captain."

Shay's face lit up even more, if that was possible. Rune decided she liked the Captain as well. Her eyes were bright and she seemed to like jokes. "The girl staying with the witch. Yes, I've heard about you."

Rune's eyes widened. Had Angela revealed her secrets? She couldn't have! "Exactly—what—have you—heard?" she squeaked, fearful.

Shay smiled kindly. "Only a rumor that you bravely battled the Ra'zac, standing beside your faire knight," she said in a grand tone.

Rune couldn't help but giggle. "Súndavar fought them. I screamed and got hurt. Not very brave at all."

"Ahh, but it was your scream that alerted Trianna," Shay said. "You have a very convincing shriek, my lady. Just out of curiousity—what lead to your being attacked by Ra'zac?"

Eragon put his arms on both of their shoulders. "Perhaps that's a tale to tell over lunch."

oooooooooooooooooooo

Rune sat in front of a table set with all sorts of wonderful things. She picked up a piece of bread, buttering it lightly and taking a hesitant bite.

"So, you see," she continued her story, "I've been…captive to Galbatorix all my life."

Eragon frowned thoughtfully. "It doesn't make sense…what use would Galbatorix have for a girl?"

Rune shrugged. "I think it was more a matter of a grudge against my sire than actual use for me." She felt awful for lying to Eragon. But she couldn't tell him about her past. No one could know. This was as close to the truth as she dared.

Eragon nodded. "I suppose you must be right. The question is, were the Raz'ac sent for you, or for me and Saphira?"

"Or Lady Nasuada?" Shay put in. "Or King Orrin? There are endless possibilities."

Rune bit her lip. "I don't know. Galbatorix isn't the type of man to give anything up once he considers it his. I was…a possession."

Shay was playing with a lock of hair absentmindedly. She pursed her lips. "What if the Ra'zac were sent, not to kill anyone, but to provide a distraction, or help fulfill a goal?"

"Like what?" Eragon asked.

Shay shrugged slowly. "I don't know. I'm just pouring out ideas here."

Eragon took a deep breath. "Rune, another thing. Did Galbatorix ever…give any indication he meant you ill will? Ever hurt you, or anything?"

"He hit me," Rune said softly. She quickly added, "but just once." She looked at the ground. "I think be felt bad about it later," she whispered, so softly Eragon couldn't hear

"Perhaps the Raz'ac were sent as a warning."

Eragon rubbed his temples. "This is making my head hurt. Come, let's move to pleasanter subjects. Like Rune and Súndavar's acceptance into the Varden, for instance. I've set up an appointment for the two of you tomorrow at noon with Lady Nasuada."

"Oh, Eragon thank you!" Rune cried, getting up and throwing her arms around his neck. She hugged him tightly.

"You're strangling me," Eragon said with a choking laugh. Rune quickly let go, abashed. She retreated, blushing.

Eragon let out a chuckle. "Come on. Saphira must be wondering where we are."

Rune nodded.

Súndavar watched them from the table farthest away. His heart beat angrily. Rune hadn't even noticed him. She'd gone on with her day, as if he didn't even exist. And what was with her, hugging Eragon like they were best friends or something? Had she told _Eragon_ about watching the stars back home? Had she laid by _his_ side, feeling soft and wonderful against _his_ body? Súndavar got up.

He couldn't stay here another minute. He tried to push thoughts of her out of his head. She was just another girl. They came and went. She was no different then any of them he had met. No different.

Súndavar felt a hard lump in his throat. Swallowing it, he broke into a run. He had to get away.

Because no matter how much he denied it, Rune was different. _Rune was special._

ooooooooooooooooooo

"Did my plan work?" Galbatorix asked, not facing the Ra'zac who stood in his office. _Ugly creatures_, he thought, straightening his rings. He could barely stand looking at their vile faces. Too bad they had such skill carrying out his bidding, or he would have made it a sport to slowly, excruciatingly kill them. Yes, too bad indeed…

"Yesss, master," hissed the shorter one, which was technically female, although Galbatorix could tell little difference. "The Rider feels _ressssponsible_ for her. He ssshares his persssonal chambersss."

Galbatorix was disturbed to hear this. Yes, he had wanted Eragon to fell for Rune. But his original plan—the one Murtagh had so carelessly postponed—would not work nearly as well if Rune bedded the Rider. She would be…_tainted_.

"Bring me Murtagh," Galbatorix said, dismissing them with a careless wave of his hand. "Then leave, and bring your foul stench with you."

The Ra'zac bowed, ignoring his comment about their scent. They had learned to ignore such.

A few seconds later, they returned with Murtagh. The young Rider was carelessly thrown through the door, landing on his knees.

"Pick yourself up," Galbatorix demanded, finally turning around. He waved at the air. "Uh, those vile creatures. Their smell makes me sick."

Murtagh stood, unsure what to say.

Galbatorix met his eyes. "In a week's time you will retrieve Rune from the Varden."

Murtagh's face lit up.

"Don't look so hopeful. You know the fate that awaits her when she returns." Galbatorix inspected his manicured nails. "Now, tell me exactly what you're going to do when you reach the Varden. I've told you before, so it shouldn't be too difficult, even for you."

Murtagh sighed. "I'm going to go to Rune. Wake her up. Ask her if she's told anyone. Leave the note, kidnap her and those she's told." _Betray her. Break her heart, and her trust._

"And if she's told Eragon?"

"Leave him."

"What if she's told the entire Varden?"

"Then just bring her."

King Galbatorix nodded. "Very good. You have one week, Murtagh. Prepare yourself."

Murtagh sighed. He nodded. "Yes, my lord."

Closing the door behind him, Murtagh sunk to the floor. What next? How could be doom Rune to this? This was worse than death. She should have had a right to choose…But Murtagh could do nothing. He had sworn, and now he was bound to his word.

Murtagh felt tears leaking out from under his closed eyelids. There was nothing left to believe in. "_I can't dream of freedom anymore, Rune_," he whispered. "_I just can't…_"

**Author's Note: Sorry Arya hasn't been in this story so far, but she'll be in the next chapter. After all, a story wouldn't be complete without Eragon drooling over her! Hearts to all, KittenofShadows**

**Ancient Language (forgot to put in last chapter):**

Kvetha: Greetings

Un gán ono: And to you


	14. What am I?

**Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to daydreamin' angel, for making me laugh with the comment about the Varden being like High School. Hearts to you, KittenofShadows**

Arya sat silently, watching Rune with sharp eyes. She played with the dagger in her hands, balancing its tip on her finger. There was something peculiar about that girl. It was as if Arya had seen her before, though she knew that she hadn't.

Arya did know one thing, however—sometimes it took a princess to know one.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Rune sat with Angela, helping her twist the herbs into braids to save for later. She was deep in thought, about something she had heard Nasuada talk about. After Lady Nasuada had told them they could be accepted into the Varden—if they began an apprenticeship that would help the common good—she had pulled Eragon aside. Rune had barely heard the question she had asked, but it haunted her.

_What is she?_

Rune wasn't sure. What was she? Galbatorix was a Rider. Lycona was an elf. What did that make Rune? She had never thought about it before.

Did it really matter what she was?

Apparently so.

Rune chewed on her lip. Perhaps Angela would know.

"Angela?"

"Hmm?"

"What am I?"

Angela raised her eyebrows at the question. "You're a Rune. A person. A soul, a being, a consciousness. A mind and a will and a heart." She put the herbs aside. "Anything else you'd like to ask?"

Rune sighed, shaking her head. "No Angela, that's it."

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Rune approached the elf princess quietly. It hadn't taken long to find her, but now that she had Rune wasn't sure exactly how to ask. She had met Arya a few days ago, when she had moved out of Eragon's chambers and into her own. In the time since Arya had stopped to talk to her a few times, but Rune still wasn't sure they could be considered 'friends'.

Arya was the perfect picture of what a princess should be like. She was unnervingly calm, composed, never flustered. She was useful, capable, dependant on herself. Rune wasn't sure she could ever be like that.

"Arya?" she asked tentatively. "May I ask you something?"

She didn't look up from the dagger she was sharpening. "You may. Whether I answer may depend on the question itself."

"I'm wondering. You're wise, so maybe you can help me."

"I'll do my best," Arya said softly.

"My question is this: What am I?"

Arya blinked. "I don't pretend to know what you mean."

Rune looked away. "Well, you're an elf. Saphira is a dragon and Solembum, he's a werecat. What about me?"

"I suppose it would matter on your dam and sire," Arya said, continuing to sharpen her dagger.

Rune nodded. "Well, my mother was an elf. But I'm not. And I'm not a…" she trailed off.

"I've known since a few days ago," Arya said, meeting her eyes for the first time. "Or at least suspected. It seems we share a rank, little princess."

_Little princess…_Rune had never been called that before. Murtagh had told her she _was_ a princess, but had never used her title. She nodded. "It seems so, Arya svit-kona. May I ask another question?"

"You may."

"What's your mother's name?"

"My mother is Queen Islanzadí of Ellesméra."

Rune's mouth fell open. She had heard that name before. In Murtagh's story. About her own mother, Lycone.

Rune's heart was beating faster. "Did…she…Queen Islanzadí, I mean, did she have…a sister?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then, have you ever heard the name _Lycona_?"

Arya stiffened. "_Where did you hear that name_?" she demanded. Her voice was tight.

"It…it was my mother's name."

Arya was silent for a moment. "…This I did not foresee."

Rune was bursting with questions, but she could tell Arya wasn't ready to answer them. She sat on the edge of her chair, her back rigid. Her knuckles were white from clenching the dagger. After about a quarter of an hour, the princess spoke.

"Lycona was an elf maiden who lived in Ellesméra, quite some time ago. She knew my mother, but they had never gotten along. From the time they were children, it seemed as though everything Islanzadí had, Lycona found a way to obtain. She was sneaky and spiteful, jealous of my mother's position."

Rune frowned. She had always wanted to think of her mother as gentle, kind. Surely she wasn't as evil as Galbatoriz himself?

"When King Evandar, my sire, took Islanzadí as his mate, Lycona grew more envious as ever. In the end, she managed to seduce Evandar, and became his second mate."

"I didn't know elves could have two mates," Rune commented.

"It's not forbidden, but frowned upon, as usually such a union ends in heartbreak on the part of mate rejected," Arya explained. "This was true of my mother. She fell into deep despair, seeing her beloved Evandar shrug her off for another woman."

"What happened?" Rune asked, almost forgetting the story was real.

"Evandar saw that his passion for Lycona hurt Islanzadí. Not wishing to pain his queen, he hardened his heart to Lycona, banishing her from Ellesméra. She knew that because of this disgrace, she would never again be welcome in elf cities. So she packed her things, preparing to leave. But she realized that there was one thing left for her to do."

Arya set down the dagger, dusting off her hands. "Lycona went to Islanzadí. Kneeling before her queen, she apologized, begging forgiveness for the wrongs she had committed towards her. In that moment, all ill blood between the women disappeared, because Lycona had proved herself capable of humility."

Rune nodded.

"From that day forward, Lycona remained as part of Islanzadí's council, as well as one of her closest companions. They kept no secrets from one another. Lycona served the queen as a spy, an ambassador, anything Islanzadí needed that she could trust to no one else."

Arya cleared her throat, swallowing. Her voice was constricted again. "She went missing fifteen years ago. Islanzadí ordered the strongest magic users to attempt to scry her, but no efforts of theirs succeeded. She was assumed dead. My mother nearly went crazy with grief. A week long festival was held to honor Lycona's courage and loyalty. The queen still has a fairth of her hung in her personal chambers."

Rune looked at the ground, then placed her hand over Arya's. "Then we are not only of one rank, but of one blood. _Atra nosu waíse_ _fricäya._"

Arya gave Rune a small smile, the first Rune had seen cross her face. "Yes_. Atra nosu._"

**Author's Note: Sorry this chapter was a little shorter than the others have been lately, but this seemed like a good place to end it. Murtagh will be reentering Rune's life soon as well, so keep a lookout for him. I wanted to point out also that I'm still accepting character profiles, and that you can send in as many as you want. Hearts to all, KittenofShadows**

Ancient Language:

Atra nosu waíse fricäya: Let us be friends

Atra nosu: let us


	15. Spellbound

"Rune, you have to focus!" Trianna snapped when Rune failed to lift the pebble after the first eight tries.

Ellemo watched with unmasked amusement, her arms crossed over her chest.

Rune put her head in her hands. "I _am_ focusing! I just can't do it!"

"I've explained to you how," Trianna said. "Say the words again. Focus on the stone. Envision what you want to do."

"_Reisa du stenr_," Rune whispered, trying to picture the stone rising into the air. Nothing happened. She gave a shriek of frustration and hit her head against the table.

Ellemo snickered. "Why don't you try to light a flame? Argetlam could do it the first time he tried." She was smiling cruelly.

Rune shook with rage. Didn't they get it? She couldn't use magic! "_Brisingr!"_ she hissed.

The candle didn't light.

"Maybe you just aren't talented enough to use magic," Ellemo said sweetly. "It _is_ an art. One you obviously have no skill at."

Rune was fed up. She launched herself at Ellemo. "Shut your mouth!"

The two girls crashed to the floor, rolling over each other. Rune scratched at Ellemo's face, too far gone to care about the trouble she would get in. Ellemo scrabbled at her hair, but couldn't get it loose from its tight braids to pull on it. Rune hit her.

Ellemo's eyes burned. "_Brisingr!" _she screamed. Rune's hair caught on fire.

Rune ignored it, digging her knee into Ellemo's gut. The girl grunted in pain.

"_Letta!_"

Both girls froze, unable to move. Eragon strode towards them. "_Blöthr du brisingr_."

Rune's auburn tresses stopped burning, but the smell of scorched hair remained. Eragon dragged her upwards. "What is the meaning of this?"

Rune found she was released from the spell, and threw her arms around Eragon, sobbing into his chest. He patted her back comfortingly.

Ellemo picked herself daintily up, ignoring how disheveled she might look with scratch marks on her face and blood running from her nose. "Rune attacked me unprovoked."

Eragon placed his hands on Rune's shoulders, holding her an arm's length away from him. "Is that true?"

Rune was still crying. "She insulted me because I can't use magic."

Shooting a livid gaze at both Ellemo, then Trianna—who was standing there with a smug expression on her face—Eragon cleared his throat. "You should keep better track of your apprentice, Trianna. Such behavior is not to be tolerated."

A hand on Rune's back, Eragon walked purposefully out the door, slamming it behind him.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

"Rune, you have to have better control than that," Eragon said softly, sitting with Rune in the empty field.

Rune cried silently into her hands. Her now-shoulder-length hair was wet with her tears. "You don't understand."

Eragon raised her chin using a single finger. "Rune, I understand more than you could ever believe. But that doesn't change the fact that you know better."

"I…I just lost control," Rune whispered. "I was so angry…"

Rune's eyes widened as she realized what she was saying. Galbatorix's blood ran in her veins. Could his violence, his rage run through her as well? Was she turning into her father?

Eragon gave her an encouraging hug. "Maybe we should try again." He picked up a pebble, setting it in her hand. "Try to lift it. You know the words, right?"

Rune nodded, taking a deep breath. "_Reisa du stenr_."

The rock didn't move from her hand. She sighed. "Eragon, I've tried a thousand times. Maybe Ellemo is right. This is an art I have no talent at."

Eragon clasped her hand around the pebble. "Never lose faith. I had a difficult time with magic too. I could barely lift a pebble _my_ first try."

"Yes, well it's my _tenth_ try, and I _can't_ lift it."

Eragon smiled understandingly. "Perhaps you should try using different words. Try these: _Stenr Reisa!_"

Rune tried. Still the rock didn't move.

"I'll talk to Arya,"Eragon offered. "Maybe she can help you."

Rune sighed again. "At this point, I need all the help I can get."

ooooooooooooooooooooo

"It doesn't make sense," Eragon said. "She has elf blood in her. Magic should be at her command."

Arya nodded. "It is in her, that is for certain." The elf princess said nothing else of Rune's birth, not even to Eragon.

Eragon began to pace. "What could hold her back like that?"

"Perhaps she was spelled as a baby," Arya suggested. "Such a spell could resist use of magic her entire life."

Eragon shrugged, shaking his head. "_I_ don't mind that she can't use magic, but she seems to think it makes her less than human."

"If she was spelled, then there is nothing you or I—or even she—can do about it. She must accept that magic may be lost to her forever."

Eragon nodded. "I understand. But I don't want to be the one to tell her."

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Súndavar sat in his room, lounging on the bed. His mind swirled with troublesome thoughts.

There was a light knock on the door.

"Who's there?" the boy asked roughly.

"It's me," said a young, feminine voice. Rune. "May I come in?"

Súndavar didn't respond. He heard the door open anyways. Rune entered the room, squinting in the darkness. She pulled open the curtains, flooding the space with light.

Grumbling, Súndavar turned away from the sunlight. Rune sat down on the bed across from him, cross-legged.

"I haven't seen you lately," she said. "Have you been hiding in here?"

"Why would I need to hide?"

"Have I upset you?"

"How could you have upset me?"

"That's what I'm asking," said Rune.

"Yes," answered Súndavar, not meeting her eyes. "I suppose you have."

"What did I do?"

"You've been charmed by Argetlam. You share his chambers, eat at his table. You…you allow his arms around you."

"Eragon is charming," Rune admitted. "But my heart belongs elsewhere. As for sharing chambers, I now have my own." She took his hands. "Which I'd be willing to share with you, if it would make you happy."

Súndavar looked up into her green eyes. They were open, twinkling. The eyes of a friend.

"I'd sleep beside you," Rune continued. "Like we did in Cithrí." She paused. "But only if you promise there will be no attempts on my maidenhood. I'm not ready to give that to you."

"I'd never steal something so precious," Súndavar answered her, touching her cheek.

Rune got up. "Then I'll see you tonight."

Súndavar nodded, smiling.

Taking a deep breath, Rune sighed. "I suppose I owe you this," she said, pressing her lips lightly to his cheek. "You gave it to me and I never returned it."

She left the room without another word.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Murtagh watched the mirror, staring in horror at the image Galbatorix was projecting. "She…she kissed him."

The king rubbed his temples, eyes closed. "Yes, Murtagh. She did."

"Do you suppose she's…"

"To my knowledge, they aren't lovers. That may change tonight, despite what they said."

"Tonight is the night I am to retrieve her," Murtagh said quietly. "Why did you show me this, milord?"

"To lessen your affection for her. She has forgotten you, moved on. You should do such as well."

"You may command my actions," Murtagh said bravely, "but you cannot command my heart. Rune will always be special to me. Even after you rob her of everything."

Galbatorix spun around, striking Murtagh in the jaw with a strength that surprised the young Rider. "Your tongue is insolent. Be gone!"

Murtagh rubbed his jaw, striding out of the room. "_I'm so sorry, Rune,_" he whispered. "_You may have forgotten me, but I'm sorry all the same_."

**Ancient Language:**

Blöthr du brisingr: halt/stop the fire

brisingr: fire

Letta: stop

Reisa du stenr: raise the stone

Stenr Reisa: Raise Stone


	16. Time to Come Home

Murtagh stared down at Rune, tucked in the Shade boy's arms. She was smiling faintly, just like that time—so long ago—that was burned in Murtagh's memory forever. Just by looking at her, Murtagh could tell she had changed. She wasn't that helpless creature that he had known.

He touched her shoulder. "_Letta slytha, Rune-vira_," he whispered.

She opened her eyes slowly. When she saw him, her eyes widened. A joyous grin spread over her face.

Rune untangled herself from Súndavar's arms, and Murtagh realized she was wearing the boy's tunic, minus the belt. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, before standing up.

She was hugging Murtagh before he could say anything. Murtagh wrapped his arms tightly around her, as if afraid to ever let go again. At the same time, he felt awful. How could he accept her joy at seeing him again when he was going to betray her?

She stepped back for him inspect her. The rough tunic fell loosely around her curves. Her bare legs had tanned, and she had cut her hair. He fingered a strand of it.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Aye," he affirmed, pulling her back towards him. "I missed you so much."

"Have I changed?" Rune asked softly, looking up at him.

"You have," Murtagh whispered. "I'm not sure if I see my dove anymore, or a mighty _thornessa_."

Rune giggled. Behind them, the boy stirred.

"Súndavar might awaken," she said. "Perhaps you'd like to go to the kitchens?"

Murtagh sighed, but nodded. "Yes, dove."

She slipped her hand into his, leading him out the door and down the hall. They reached the kitchens, and Rune sat down at a table. It was dark.

Murtagh smiled, sliding in next to her on the bench. "You've grown up."

"I have. Do you mind all that much?"

He laughed, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Not at all. I think I like you better this way."

Rune was silent for a moment.

"So what's the deal with that boy in your chambers?" Murtagh asked softly.

"Who? Oh, Súndavar. Well, he's a friend of mine."

"Is that all?"

"We haven't…you know. But he wants to, I think."

"And you?"

"I don't think I want that," she said flatly. She turned away.

"What about your…sireship? Has anyone found out about you?"

"Found out that I'm the daughter of the devil, you mean?" she hissed, fire burning in her eyes.

Murtagh was surprised at her ferocity. She had never _hated_ Galbatorix before. Thought him restrictive, yes. But hated? Murtagh hadn't thought she could _hate_ anything. She was too good.

"Found out that you are a princess," he amended.

"I told Angela," she admitted to him. "Arya guessed."

"And Eragon?"

Rune shook her head. "He doesn't know. Murtagh?"

"Hmm?"

"Did my father release you from bond to him? Is that why you're here? That doesn't sound like him."

"No. He didn't." Murtagh's heart quickened, his spirits dropped. As soon as Rune found out why he was there, this wonderful familiarity would end. He would be her enemy. Murtagh wished he was anywhere but here. Dead even. Just not here.

"Then did he allow you to come and see me?" she asked. Her voice was pleading, as if trying and failing to find a reason for his presence, but unable to accept his treachery.

"No. Rune, I—"

She shook her head, eyes wide. She got up. "You…you…" she breathed.

"If I could change the reason I am here, I would," Murtagh whispered.

"I…I…" she looked at herself in disbelief. "I fell for it. For you. For this stupid act!" she spit. Turning on her heels, Rune ran.

"_Letta!_" Murtagh said, hating himself for it. She stopped running, frozen in place.

_Angela! Arya! Eragon! Súndavar! Saphira! _The words echoed through Murtagh's mind. Rune repeated them, louder. Her mind's screaming made his head hurt and his heart ache.

At first, no one responded. Then, both Arya and Angela appeared through the open doors.

"_Letta!_" Murtagh called again, freezing them in place as well. Arya's face was contorted in rage.

Murtagh walked up to Arya, hitting her in the back of the neck. She couldn't move to block the blow. She collapsed to the floor, out cold.

After repeating the process on the herbalist, Murtagh approached Rune. Her eyes burned hatefully.

"It's time to come home, dove," he said. Not able to bear hitting her, he squeezed a nerve in the back of her neck, catching her and laying her on the floor gently.

Drawing his bow, Murtagh notched an arrow into it. Tossing a piece of parchment into the air, he made his shot. The parchment was pinned neatly to the wall.

_Come, Thorn_, Murtagh thought. _It is time._

**Ancient Language:**

Letta slytha: stop sleeping

Thornessa: snake

vira: feminine honorific for a close friend


	17. Of Traps and Dowrys

Súndavar knew something was wrong the instant he awoke, feeling the absence of Rune's soft warmth, her silk legs. His heart beat faster. Getting out of bed, he strode down the hall quickly.

Pounding on the door to Eragon's chambers, he entered without permission. "Where is she?" asked the Shade's son, staring at Eragon hatefully.

Eragon squinted at him, still in bed. His hair was tousled. "Who?" he asked groggily.

"Rune. She's gone. Where is she?"

Eragon's eyes widened. "She's gone?"

Súndavar nodded.

Eragon got out of bed quickly. "Check with Angela. I'll look in the kitchens."

Súndavar nodded. He dashed off towards the healer's chambers.

Knocking urgently on the door, Súndavar felt his heart sinking. "Angela!"

He kept knocking. The door opened. Instead of finding the herbalist, he came face to face—or father, face to knee—with Solembum.

Brushing past the cat, Súndavar rushed into the room. He glanced around wildly for Angela. "Angela? Are you here?"

_She is not_.

"Who said that?" Súndavar asked, looking around.

_I did_.

"Who's there? Show yourself."

_I am_.

Súndavar frowned. He looked at the cat, then shook his head. "Now _I'm_ going crazy!" he cried, slapping himself in the forehead. "Where is that woman?"

_Angela went to find Rune late last night. She hasn't returned. As for your insanity, I do not believe you are as unstable as you think. I'm Solembum_.

Súndavar sat down abruptly. "You…talk."

_I do. As do you, if I'm not very much mistaken_.

Blinking stupidly, Súndavar said nothing.

_If you are looking for Angela, you won't find her here._

Súndavar nodded blankly. "Okay." He stood up and left.

Walking towards the kitchens to find Eragon, Súndavar reflected on what he had just seen. A talking cat?

He reached the kitchens. There was a large group huddled around something. He pushed through it, reaching Eragon at it's center.

"The witch has a talking cat," he said stupidly, still dumbstruck.

"Yes," Eragon said impatiently. "That's Solembum. He's a werecat. Look at this."

Súndavar didn't look at the piece of paper held out to him. "_It _TALKS!"

"Yes!" Eragon snapped. "It talks. Just look at this, will you?"

Súndavar took the parchment. He read it silently. "There is to be a—"

ooooooooooooooooooooo

"Tournament?" Rune asked, staring incredulously at her father. "And I'm to marry the winner?"

"Which will be King Orrin."

Rune shook her head. "All that for Eragon? And Surda's lands?"

"Yes, daughter," Galbatorix said, picking some lint off his extravagant tunic, proving how little he cared about his daughter.

"Don't call me that," Rune snapped. "You are not my father."

"Perhaps not. But I am your sire, and therefore you must submit to my will."

Rune stared at him with hatred. "So you suspect Eragon to just come? You remember, he doesn't know who I am."

"The Rider will come."

Rune looked at the paper Galbatorix had given to her. "And my dowry? It is to be—"

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

"The lands from Aroughs to Teirm?" Nasuada asked. "Isn't that rather conveniently located?"

Eragon nodded. "I think it may be a trap, set either to bind Surda to Galbatorix or to capture Saphira and I. Which, I don't know."

King Orrin shook his head. "If Galbatorix wanted my lands, why doesn't he just take them? He's got more than enough force, and both sides know it."

"Even the most violent man tires of war," Eragon said. "He has proved his worth in battle. Perhaps he is trying to prove he is capable of tricking Surda out of it's lands. There is no glory in a one sided battle. Besides, let's say King Orrin won. Who's to say this 'daughter' isn't loyal to her father? Perhaps she would be used as a spy. An assassin even."

Nasuada nodded. "I agree with Eragon. This is far to dangerous to allow ourselves to be caught up in."

King Orrin scowled. "Having those lands would double—triple the size of my kingdom. Besides, I have no queen, and the people want one."

Súndavar spoke for the first time. "I don't know how you can even _think_ of going, with Rune missing."

Captain Shay placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Not only Rune, either. Angela and Arya have gone missing as well."

Eragon sighed. "They are all probably with Galbatorix. Why he wants them, I don't know. Perhaps Rune knows something from her days as his prisoner."

"We have two options here," Nasuada said. "We either go, or we don't."

King Orrin nodded. "I wish to go."

"It doesn't matter what we _wish_," said Eragon. "What matters is what is _right_. If we go, we run the risk of being ensnared in whatever Galbatorix has planned. If we don't, Rune, Angela, and Arya may be lost to us forever."

Captain Shay began to pace. "Here's how I see it," she murmured. "From a tactical side, this is a disaster. We're walking into enemy territory, trying to spring a trap, the reason for which is unclear. However, it may just work out. Say we sent a strike team—a small group of people, perhaps five or six—into Galbatorix's castle to find Rune and the others, since Galbatorix will be busy with his tournament."

She paused, chewing on a nail thoughtfully. "If King Orrin wins, we can turn Galbatorix's own plan against him, using the girl as a hostage if necessary. Orrin will get his lands, we'll get Angela, Arya, and Rune back, and perhaps, if we're lucky, we might even be able to retrieve the egg."

Shay had just voiced what Eragon was thinking about. Using the tournament as cover, they could journey to Uru'baen—and capture the remaining dragon egg.

"This sounds…suitable," Eragon said, nodding. "All that remains is deciding who will go."

"Well, I must be present," King Orrin said.

"I'm going as well," stated Nasuada. "We can't very well leave you behind either, Eragon. But Saphira will have to remain here. We can't risk Galbatorix realizing who you are."

"Should I ready a squad?" Shay asked.

"No, Argetlam will hand pick the people going," King Orrin answered. "If it's not too much trouble?"

"None at all."

"I'm going," Súndavar said, his voice final. "Don't even try to stop me, Eragon."

Eragon watched the boy carefully. "No. I won't stop you."

Súndavar smiled triumphantly. He left the room.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

"Escort the princess to her room, Murtagh," Galbatorix said, smiling cruelly.

Murtagh glanced at Rune. Her face was impassive. She stood up, chin set defiantly.

"Come, Rune."

"Such familiarity will not be tolerated," Rune said stiffly. "You will address me by my rank, Rider."

"Yes, your highness. Come this way," Murtagh said. His voice was sad.

Rune took a deep breath, following him out of the room. Murtagh closed the door behind her.

They walked in silence. Rune still wore Súndavar's tunic.

"Rune, can't we talk about this?"

"You have doomed me, Rider. There is nothing to talk about, nothing to discuss. You sealed my fate the moment you touched Thorn's egg."

Murtagh looked at his shoes. "You know I would never do anything to harm you on purpose. I love you."

A flash of—surprise?—glinted in Rune's eyes. "I felt the same way about you, once upon a time. I was a girl then. I didn't understand. I harbor no such feelings now."

"Quit it with the royal tone and formal speech, Rune," Murtagh snapped. "Tell me how you feel."

"I am to be wed to King Orrin," Rune said. "It doesn't matter how I feel."

Murtagh opened the door to her new chambers. "You're to stay here." He shut the door behind her.

Sinking to the floor, Murtagh put his head in his hands. What was the point of living anymore? Everything he had loved was gone.


	18. Goodbye Kiss

"I am to escort you to your dressing room," Murtagh said to Rune, staring over her head instead of into her eyes. "There is a tiring woman there, along with your companions. They will dress you."

"Arya is a princess!" Rune snapped. "She is _not_ going to dress me."

"They are your servants now. They will accompany you when you sit in the stands to watch the tournament," Murtagh said, his voice neutral. "Come, princess."

Rune followed him with tense silence. He stopped in front of a door. Unlocking it, he motioned her inside. "King Galbatorix expects you ready in two hours. I will return then."

Rune felt the door close behind her. She threw herself into Angela's arms, sobbing.

Angela stroked her hair. "Hush, Rune. It's alright."

"No, it isn't," Rune cried. "I've doomed you all!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Arya said. "Things will find a way to work themselves out in the end. They always do."

The other woman stood up, a hand on her stomach. "You are Rune?"

Rune nodded, wiping her eyes.

"I am Katrina."

Rune examined her. She was beautiful, with copper hair and a soft face. Her dress was stretched tight across her stomach, which bulged unnaturally.

"With child?"

Katrina nodded. "Five months." She smiled softly. "Let's get you ready. Arya is right, all will work out in the end."

"How can you be sure?"

"I can't. But we must go on believing that it will."

Rune nodded. "Alright." She sighed. "But I don't see what good it will do. I am a prisoner, after all."

"You are a present," Angela corrected. "A gift to the winner."

"So you know about the tournament?"

"Murtagh told us. He loves you, Rune."

Rune nodded. "Perhaps, once, I might have been able to love him back. We could have been happy together. But I cannot now, not after what he has done."

Katrina handed her a veil, then tried to help her into a dress. Rune pushed her away gently. "I'll do this myself. No matter what my father wishes, you'll not serve me."

After a half hour of failing to wiggle into the dress, Rune finally accepted help. Arya tightened the corset around her tightly. With each tug, Rune gasped.

"Does—it—have—to—be—so—tight?" she wheezed.

"Rich ladies all throughout the Empire wear those," Katrina said, eyeing the underclothes. "I wish I could have one. They're incredibly expensive."

Rune was turning a bit blue in the face. "If this is what wealth brings, take away my riches. Arya, loosen this! I can't breathe!"

The elf princess laughed, loosening the corset. Rune took a deep, gasping breath of air. "Oh, thank heavens."

Katrina laughed. "There are matching dresses for us as well. We are to sit with you in the stands to watch the tournament."

"Murtagh said as much," Rune said, still catching her breath. "Alright Arya. I'm ready to try again. Not so tight this time."

Arya laced up the corset. Rune bit her lip, then nodded. "Alright. This will do. If I faint, try to revive me before anyone sees."

Soon the four women started to enjoy themselves. Rune was glad that they could lose themselves in the silks, even for a moment. It helped take her mind off things.

They began to joke around. Katrina powdered her hair and cheeks with white face powder, then chased Rune around the room making ghostly sounds. Angela put up her hair in an insane style, then put on a crazy dress and strutted around the room pretending to be a peacock. Even Arya laughed when Rune did an impression of a snobby princess, sticking her nose up at the dress Katrina—pretending to be a merchant—offered her, claiming that "Rubies look simply dreadful with my complexion. It's diamonds or nothing!"

Rune made up for having them dress her by helping Katrina into her dress as well.

Smiling, Rune examined her group. "You are my friends," she stated simply. "I hope we remain such forevermore."

Katrina went to stand by her. She placed her hand on Rune's. "As do I."

Angela clasped her hand over Katrina's. "And I."

Arya sighed. Placing her hand over theirs, she nodded. "And I as well."

"May this union last until the stars burn out," Rune said. "_Yawë_ to you all."

"_Yawë."_

"_Yawë"_

"_Yawë."_

Rune embraced them. She may have been heading to her doom, but she had friends. That was all that mattered.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Murtagh returned, her found them ready, tears in their eyes but grins on their faces. He gaped at Rune's dress.

"You…you look beautiful in that, princess."

Rune looked at the ground. "You know I can't love you, Murtagh."

"I know."

"I'm not mad anymore. But I can never love you again."

"I'm glad you aren't mad at me."

Rune went on tiptoes, pressing her lips to his gently. He wrapped his arms around her to deepen the kiss. She pulled away after a moment.

"Goodbye, Murtagh," she whispered. Handmaidens in tow, the princess of Alagaësia walked away.

Murtagh had the feeling she was walking out of his life. "Goodbye, my dove."


	19. Like a Mouse in a Trap

Eragon stood at ready, his feet apart, his grip on the sword tight. The sword provided was well crafted, and balanced in his hand perfectly. It was a masterpiece, unadorned and undefiled.

It had taken quite a bit of coaxing on the part of both Nasuada and King Orrin, but finally Eragon had agreed to serve as one of the fighters on Orrin's behalf. It was best, after all, and was a perfect disguise.

His opponent, a rough looking man who's lord was from Bullridge, spit something on the ground.

"Prepare to lose, boy."

Eragon said nothing. He threw a glance at the princess, who sat in the stands, three handmaidens at her sides. Veils concealed all of their faces. Eragon couldn't tell what she looked like, but the way she held herself seemed familiar. Her curves were emphasized by a black dress sprouting red lace from the low neckline and slit sleeves. He nodded to her respectfully.

"Fight!"

Eragon lunged.

Watching the fight from behind her veil, Rune felt her heart begin to speed. "He came," she whispered to Katrina.

"That's _Eragon_," Katrina said. "_My lover's cousin_!"

Rune's mouth dropped open. "You mean you—he's—cousin? _Roran?_"

Katrina nodded. "Have you met him?"

"Only passing by, in the castle kitchens. But he seems very nice. Is he the…the father?"

Katrina nodded, touching her stomach. "He doesn't know."

Arya looked over at them. "Keep your voices down. We mustn't jeopardize Eragon's disguise."

Rune gave her a curt nod, turning back to the fight. Neither man could best the other. Eragon was young and strong, but the man had endurance.

Suddenly the man's blade broke in two. So _this_ was how Galbatorix was going to ensure King Orrin won…

Staring in disbelief at the blade, the man raised his arm, the sign for a new sword. The smith in charge of weapons looked at Rune.

"Milady?"

"Request denied," Rune said regally. "May the fight commence."

"But he's bladeless!"

"Yes. That was very much the point of denying him another blade."

The swordsmith grumbled, but gave the sign to refuse the sword. The man couldn't hold his own without one. In moments, Eragon's steel was pressed to his neck.

"Winner, Erik of Surda! Loser, Cedric of Bullridge!"

More fights commenced. Rune didn't pay much attention to them. She was watching Eragon, who sat with King Orrin, and Nasuada in the space provided.

When the contestants had been lowered to half as many men, Rune began to watch again. Eragon continued to win—aided by Galbatorix's faulty swords. It finally got down to two men.

They stood in front of the stands, eyes dark and brows thoughtful.

"Erik of Surda!"

"Bracken of Dras-Leona!"

Rune watched them. Bracken was young, as young as Eragon, with deep brown hair and a cocky jaw. He was handsome, and strong to have made it this far.

Rune stood up. She had been told about this part by Angela, who had heard it from Murtagh. She would offer a token to each man, wishing them luck. She stepped daintily towards them.

"You have fought brave and hard," she said in an even, royal tone. "Erik of Surda, Bracken of Dras-Leona, I offer you these tokens. May not the strongest man triumph, but he with the purest heart and the greatest resolve."

She leaned over from her place on the pedestal, giving each a kiss on the cheek through her veil. She saw no recognition in Eragon's eyes. Couldn't he see it was her?

She drew away, biting her lip. "What say you, Erik of Surda?"

"Thank thee, milady." Eragon's voice was flat, practiced. Rune wanted to scream.

"What say you, Bracken of Dras-Leona?"

"Thank thee, milady." Bracken gave her a grin.

Rune took a deep breath. "Then may we decide the winner now. Face your opponent!"

She retreated back to her seat. "He didn't recognize me," she whispered sadly to Angela.

Angela smiled. "Worry not, Rune."

Rune nodded. "I'm trying. But it's hard not to worry when you feel so helpless."

The fight between Eragon and Bracken was long and brutal. Rune winced when she heard Bracken's arm bone snap. Trading his blade to the other hand, he continued to spar.

Suddenly, the energy seemed to leave Bracken. Rune glanced upwards. In her bedroom window—her old bedroom, that is—she saw a swish of cloak. Galbatorix. It was too dangerous for him to appear at the tournament, he had far too many enemies. But that wouldn't keep him from determining its outcome. He probably had been manipulating things all along. Rune wished she had paid more attention.

Without his strength, Bracken collapsed to the ground. Eragon was the winner. Rune's heart was beating hard under the black silk.

"Winner, Erik of Surda! Loser, Bracken of Dras-Leona!"

They returned to the pedestal. Again, Rune approached them.

"You fought well," she said. "Bracken, may your healing come at Godspeed. Erik, hand me your blade."

Eragon obeyed. Rune took it. Placing it on his shoulder, she spoke in a loud voice. "May this man be honored the winner. May his lord accept my hand and my dowry."

Eragon looked up at her. His eyes widened. Rune smiled at him, winking from under her veil.

Standing up, Eragon reclaimed his sword. Rune nodded, curtsying to him.

"So mote it be!"

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Súndavar touched the egg reverently. He could hear the cheers of the audience outside, but it was far away. The beautiful egg captivated him, it's black and green swirls untraceable and perfect.

Shay touched him hesitantly. "Come, Súndavar. We must find Rune and the others."

_Rune? Ah…yes. Rune_…Súndavar couldn't pull himself away from the stone. What did Rune matter? He couldn't remember.

"Súndavar!"

He looked up. "Oh. Yes, Captain. Sorry."

Shay opened a sack, taking the egg from Súndavar and dropping it in. "Come on."

_You aren't going anywhere_.

Súndavar turned around. Shruikan watched him with a cruel yellow eye. The dragon gave him a harsh smile.

Súndavar felt his heart stop in his chest.

_Caught_, Shruikan said, placing a claw on his chest. _Caught like a mouse in a trap_.


	20. Parting Gift

**Author's Note: Wanted to mention, the passage in this chapter is real. When Saphira's egg was kidnapped, Arya (it was her, right?) escaped through it.**

"Shruikan, wait."

The dragon looked up. Rune stood in the doorway, her group of friends behind her.

_Hello, little devil_.

"Is that what I am?" Rune asked him. "I am a princess. I am a murderer. I am a rebel. I am a thornessa and a dove. Am I also a devil?"

_You are what you have chosen to be_. Shruikan removed his claw from Súndavar's chest.

"I have." she said. "Have you chosen as well?" she looked him straight in the eye. "Or have you allowed someone else to choose for you?"

Shruikan sheathed his claws. _You can't begin to understand. You are a child._

"When I left here, I was. Now, I believe I am something more. I make my own choices. Can you say as much, great dragon?"

Eragon and the group—Shay, Roran, Súndavar, Katrina, Arya, Angela, Nasuada, and King Orrin—stood, awestruck. They too could hear Shruikan's words.

Shruikan met her stare. _You have changed much, little one_.

"Yes. I have come far."

_When you left, I saw a lass running from her destiny. You stand before me now, a woman, facing it head on_.

Rune sighed. She placed her hand on Shruikan's nose. "My father may be evil, but I sense something more in you, Shruikan. May we meet again."

She led the group past him. He made no attempt to stop her.

_Not that way,_ he said finally. _Take the passage._ _Leave, now._ He lifted the rug with a claw, revealing a trapdoor.

The group headed down it, into the shadows below. Rune turned back to face Shruikan. She smiled.

_May we meet again_.

Just as the trapdoor was closing, Galbatorix came into the room, his face red with fury.

Shruikan held him back with a claw. _Let them be,_ he said softly._ They have won this round_.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

The group kept going down the passage. It was wet and dirty, but they ignored it, happy to be escaping.

Roran walked near Katrina, helping her along. Rune tried not to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help it. Their voices echoed off the walls.

Katrina was looking at her shoes, embarrassed. She said nothing. Roran touched her cheek. "I'm so happy to be with you again."

Katrina looked away. "I'm sorry, I've brought you shame. I understand if you don't want to accept me any longer."

Roran placed his hand on her stomach. "No. You have brought me joy."

"We aren't wedded. It's disgraceful."

"I think it's wonderful," Rune broke in, unable to stop herself. "What does it matter if you aren't wedded? You are in love, and for that your child is as legitimate as any other."

Katrina smiled at her thankfully. "When I first found out I was…"

"Pregnant?" Roran prodded.

"Yes. When I first found out, I feared you would be angry. Such thoughts haunted me."

Roran put his arm over her shoulder. "I could never be angry. It's a miracle."

Katrina opened her to respond, but she was interrupted.

"It's blocked!"

Rune rushed to the front of the line. Eragon was right. The path was blocked. A large, smooth stone cut off the way, trapping them. She ran her fingers over it. "Something's written on it! I need light!"

Eragon murmured something in the Ancient Language, and a fire burned in his fingertips. He held up the light for her.

Rune frowned and began to recite:

"_Sea**L**ed with a Rune, sealed with a spell_

_A girl withi**N** this castle dwell_

_A daughter of rider, of elf and of king_

_Magi**C** unlocked, within her blood sings_

_Open the way, free her from b**O**nd_

_The power inside joins the power beyond_

_So may it go free, **Y**es out from her heart,_

_A life may be broken, yet another may st**A**rt."_

"This is no time for verses!" King Orrin snapped. "Eragon, can you get rid of this?"

Eragon shook his head. "No. Shruikan has played a deathly trick on us."

Rune kept inspecting the stone. Beneath the words, there were two handprints, a smaller and a larger. She traced them. Scrutinizing the poem one last time, her face lit up. Some of the letters were written in human, others in _elf_. She looked hard at the elf runes—L, N, C, O, Y, A. What could they mean?

Suddenly Rune understood. She flipped the letters around in her mind. "Lycona!"

Grabbing Eragon's hand, she placed it against the larger handprint. His gedwëy ignasia began to glow. Rune placed her hand on the other print.

"_Gath lif iet un Eragon vor,_" she whispered. _Unite my life with Eragon's_.

The words of the poem began to shine. Rune tried to take her hand away, but it remained stuck fast. With a final scream, she collapsed. Her hand was released. The words stopped shining, leaving them in utter blackness.

"B_risingr,_" Eragon whispered. With the fire lighting up the passage, they saw that the stone had vanished.

Rune laid on the ground. She didn't move.

Súndavar dove to her. "Rune!" He shook her. "Rune, _wake up!_ Open your eyes!"

The girl didn't respond.

Shay knelt beside him. She had tears in her eyes. "Súndavar, she's gone."

Súndavar shook his head. "No she's not! She's fine!" He picked her up. She laid limply in his arms. "Come on. Let's get back to Surda."

King Orrin gasped. "You mean _Rune_ was the princess I was to marry?"

"Galbatorix's own daughter," Arya said reverently. She placed two fingers on Rune's lips. "Goodbye, friend."

Súndavar jerked her away. "I'm not leaving her," he said stubbornly. His voice was choked with tears.

They continued their trek. But no one spoke. Shay cried silently to herself, staying by the fallen princess's side. Eragon felt sadness well up to choke him. They had survived. They would live to see another day, because of Rune's bravery.

It was her final gift.

_She had given herself up -- for her friends._


	21. Rider's Promise

Súndavar wiped tears from his eyes. Rune looked so peaceful, laying there on the bed. Her hands were clasped over her stomach, a single black rose bloom held in her still fingers. Súndavar touched her cheek.

Shay stood silently behind him. Tears streaked her face openly. Her blue eyes shone with sadness.

Arya scattered black rose petals over her. Her face was sad, and tears danced in her eyes, threatening to fall.

Eragon stepped forward. "Rune—" he stopped, regaining his composure. "Rune was special. She was different. I think she gave something to each of us, something of herself. Such was her destiny. She was filled with wonder for the world around her. All those gathered here would be dead if not for her."

He stepped backwards. Shay approached the bed carefully. She laid her gift—a dagger engraved with a snake and a dove—by Rune's side. "I didn't know you for long," she said. "But I shall truly miss you. I owe you my life."

Katrina smiled sadly, stepping towards Rune. "I shall remember you forever. _Yawë_, my friend."

Each came forward, offering a gift or a few words. Súndavar was last.

"I hoped to share my life with you," he whispered. "I hoped that someday there could be an _us_. Perhaps my hopes were in vain. But know that I will love you forever. I'll never take another. I promise." He leaned over, kissing her lips lightly. They were still warm.

Súndavar drew away, startled. "She…"

Eragon approached. He touched her cheek. "She's warm."

Angela felt her neck for a pulse. "Nothing. She isn't breathing."

Arya looked afraid. "_Andlát slytha_," she whispered fatefully.

Shay turned to her. "_What?_"

Arya shook her head. "Nothing. Rune is dead."

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Galbatorix rocked slowly back and forth in his chair. "It seems my plan has gone awry."

_It seems so_.

"Rune is not the girl she once was. That girl would not have put up resistance."

_She is different. She is no longer a child, _Shruikan said.

Galbatorix nodded. "I have no more use for her. She will have to be disposed of."

Shruikan didn't respond. He didn't agree with Galbatorix. Rune was living her own life. She had every right to.

Galbatorix grinned devilishly. "I believe I can arrange a few fatal accidents for her. That is, if she still lives."

Shruikan heaved a dragon sigh. _Yes. I suppose you can._

Taking a dagger off his desk, Galbatorix began flipping it expiramentally. He was going to enjoy this. Yes, he would enjoy it very much.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Súndavar touched the egg, feeling its humming in his veins. It was _beautiful_, _wonderful_. He wished he could just sit there, touching it forever.

He loved everything about it, from its green color, laced with deep black, to the smoothness of it. Something about it comforted him, though he wasn't sure what. He envisioned the baby dragon nestled inside, so perfect, flawless.

Just by touching the stone, Súndavar felt he could lose all his troubles. His sadness faded, although his heart still ached, it was bearable.

Súndavar didn't know what it was that drew him to the egg, but he was glad.

The egg squeaked.

Súndavar drew away, startled. The egg squeaked again, beginning to shake.

Súndavar watched in awe. A small crack started at the top of the egg, then ran its way down. More appeared, crisscrossing the shell like lace.

The shell broke open. Green and black scales appeared, wrinkly and soft.

Súndavar gaped at it. Sitting in front of him, watching him with calculating, yellow eyes, was a baby dragon.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Eragon grabbed Arya's shoulder, once everyone had left. "Arya, what was that you said?"

"_Andlát slytha_," Arya whispered. "Death sleep."

"What does it mean?"

Arya looked away. "Such a sleep is uncommon. It's happened twice in history."

"What does it mean for _Rune_?"

Arya shook her head. "Tell, me, Eragon. What did Rune say, when she opened the door?"

"_Gath lif iet un Eragon vor_," Eragon recited. Rune's last words were fixed in his mind.

Arya nodded. "There is no light way to say this, Eragon, so Ishall be blunt. You carry a great burden."

"What?"

"Rune lives."

Eragon frowned. "That's sick, Arya. Don'ttoy with me. What do you mean?"

"I jest not. Rune lives on. Inside you."

Eragon shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Rune's words bound her to you in a way no one can undo besides you. Her soul—it is inside you. Sleeping. Waiting."

"How do I wake her up?" Eragon asked, the enormity of this sinking upon his heart.

"I don't know," Arya admitted sorrowfully.

Eragon blinked. "I will restore her," he said. "_Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal_."

_Upon my word as a Rider._

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

**The story continues in:**

**Son of Wrath and Fire**


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